The cold on your throat is my hand
Lurking in the dark, lurking in the light
I'm here to haunt you I am your fright
The marks on your skin are marks of my seed
And the pain you feel is forever breeding
And all your flesh is grass in my hands
And all the skin rots as autumn grass
The dark you see is the dark I am
I rip your heart out, I am your sandman
And all your flesh is grass in my hands
And all the skin rots as autumn grass
More All Flesh Is Grass
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