Deathstars - Termination Bliss

Here she comes down,
As her wings get nailed to the ground
A polaroid of shame
The last angel's pathetic fame

The face of deceit with nails in her feet
She's a preacher deprived from her voice
A punctured lung is creating noise

The cry that she made
Was the cry of a dying child
The revocation if empathy The sound from a million
Dreams and scars
Terminator bliss

Blessed under a lie, her last little weak "why?"
The bloody end of a dream
Slit the throat and taste the cream

She wears her crown
On a head that's bowed deep down
A dying picture of lies
A tortured saint fed to the flies