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The tonic that you drink

Brings the night,

With a demon's dust inside.

With slurring words

And blurring sight,

A captive now,

You close your eyes.

Submit to my degenerate designs.

A pulse, but not so much—barely alive.

We shall conceive a witch tonight.

We shall conceive a witch tonight.

And you awake in morning light,

Violated violently.

You cry out to your Christian god

To help you understand.

The human side of psychopaths

Does not exist, is not of men.

My lack of empathy transcends

Your comprehension.

Your soul erased,

Burnt in heathen’s fire.

May the Incubus

Conquer your desires.

Submit to my degenerate designs.

A pulse, but not so much—barely alive.

We shall conceive a witch tonight.

We shall conceive a witch tonight.