The Blasphemer – Bethzaida

I am the sweetest pain
I am the curse of heaven
I am sweet tender hell

I bring you cold winter
Upon the mountains high
But what I crave from you my love
Will never satisfy

As nothing stands before me
I leave nothing when I am gone
I come with the cold wind from north
And I always must go on

I bring you nights of passion
Between walls made of wood
And when I have to go I whisper
“I thought you understood”

Take comfort as I leave you
one day I will return


Lyric The Blasphemer – Bethzaida