(This whole tune is full of whispering and background vocals...If you can make
them out, and they're right...I may just send you a small cash reward.)
Ad mala patrata haec sunt theatra parata.
(best translation so far is something like: "For the evil achiever these
theatres are prepared.")
Trick mortis, trick mortis, sick mortis (whispers)
Ask me; you question me.
Why must our pleasure always be in restraint?
(no pain, no pleasure)
Restraint, restraint (x2)
Ad mala patrata...In my slick black world.
Trick...Mortis...Sick...Mortis...In my slick black world.
Where senses crave to enslave...In my slick black world.
Deprive all senses; control {all} defenses.
Where sighs breed like flies.
Do you know, it's where perversion hides.
Bet you've never seen me ache as the panic melts away.
Bet you'll never waste...Could you take another taste of me?
(To accompany every penetration with a death rattle.) (x2)
(moan)
Feel it prick...Pleasure in restraint.
(moan)
Feel it stick.
(It is divine.) (x4)
It is divine in restraint.
Ask me; you question me.
Why must our pleasure always be in restraint?
Where sighs breed like flies.
It's where perversion hides...In my slick black world.