Wringing of bodies, rang of lurid glade of swamp extent vast and degraded here
Worshipper’s mass motion, left to right deeper fleur-de-lys-soaked institution
Unfamiliar chill the listener drain the blister
A vacated Hypnos endless bacchanalia

Creeping older fetishism laggard of New Orleans horde de rigueur for mention
Monday's repetition of Sunday's is more easily planned than it is performed
Born familiar chilled distiller follow it wrecked en masse
Passing the glass, slaking the mass
A vacated Hypnos endless bacchanalia

Falling ruin zenith poison stooping at each doorway's quasi customs knocked-off feet cult-mull degenerate
Dread the needed gloom under one domed-roof unfamiliar chill the blister drain the listener
Born familiar chilled distiller passing the glass, slaking the mass
A vacated Hypnos endless bacchanalia
There is an ocean waiting amber wind blows and the wind blows cry me a grave


Lyrics submitted by sokorny

Bacchanalia song meanings
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