Justine - Akercocke

Beauty is a virgins pinch

Beauty is blasphemy

Beauty is a sick rose

Beauty is truth

Lips always cool

Thin, hard tongue

Beauty is the beginning of terror

Beauty is a circle

She likes me to stand

While she sucks me

I searched all over the abbey

Justine now gone

Her soul free, to be

Distinct in my mind

As i see you

Disencumber skin of darkness

Bleeding into

The structure

Essence of unholy form

To kill the persona

To supress the lies of mind

The opinion is distortion

In perfection of void

Destroy false self

«Thus does your master

Cure the bind, crucified?»