In the house of Lecter
The table is always set for Seth
Such a delicate feast
Is presented to the lovely folk
And the host is a ghost of the past
Ever-changing are his stories
But no lies are told inside these walls
This body is a house
Which quietly, softly decays
I know the night
Will bring me closer to death
They say and I'm sure
That you have heard it, too
That human flesh
Is served there
That might be the case
But surely it is not
The most fucked up thing there
This body is a house
Which quietly, softly decays
I know the night
Will bring me closer to death
(You might want to think twice)
Before entering this house
For here is the trick
These tall tales become reality
After you leave this old house
Lived by Lecter
(Am I? Is it me?)
(Who can it be?)
(My house, my rules)
"And so Lecter ends his tale
And hands you a gift
A script of your soon ending life
And his stories are always fucked up"
Now I have to go alone
Leave the scars on the face
Even if the eyes would close
It's still written on me
Draw the shape in half
Draw the shape in half
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