Cold Grave (Zyklon)

A ferocious circle of fiends A paragon to follow A derisive laughter, created by winds No wonder everyone thought it was hollow A place for everything Grace me with sleepless nights A time for anything Praise me with clear-cut fights A dead end street Shut your bedroom and block herein Lift and uncover your sheet Addictive like goddamn heroin The chasm of reality Sanctions through folly Still no overdrive capacity Never seen anything so holy This is the night of the cold grave blues Be sure it's all wrapped well and tucked I ain't got no short fuse Hell, this is when we'll all be fucked