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• Artiste: Mouth Of The South
• Titre: THE MOTHER OF PROSTITUTES
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I can't define myself, I've got a lot of baggage with me. I've worn so many masks, I can't recognize my face. What do you see in me? Why waste your time on something unclean? I've forsaken my vows, I am a harlot, but your hands are still reaching for me. You've unlocked my chains, but I refuse to leave this cell. I remain in these shackles, surely this is my hell. I am diseased, I am filthy. I step into glory but the shadows never leave the back of my mind. Your eyes see right through me, only you can know my heart. Tell me, do I still have a pulse? Or is it too weak to hold a spark? Surely there is someone else who deserves a king like you. I'm far too unfaithful to be pursued. I've heard you calling me so many times before. Why waste your breath on such a filthy whore? "My son, my son!" You keep calling out my name. "My son, my son!" You keep screaming at me... "I'm not going anywhere! Run to my arms I'll set you free. Your chains are gone so run to me. Run to my arms, you've been set free."