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Sins' wreath surrounds my head

In my embrace - old, sickly flesh

Underground the foetus lies in mum

Stinking gas and bloody, rotting pus

Burning corpse, small body in decay

No soul, no name, no words for pray

When day collides with night

We come in human mind

Take Spade, night will protect us

Let's see dead, pregnant bride

Open lid, wade in swamp of blood

Look at fate, at mucous infant's corpse