Damien

In the heart of the coldest summer Two desperate souls fused Deep down in the trenches The dark lord smiled bemused You see, it was his offspring That the woman's womb bruised The demons seed poisoned within Smoking cigarettes, drinking booze Damien, Damien, product of our love When the seed was born, all the willows wept The Smiths and The Cure, made sure that it slept All he wore was black All he knew was rage His very own parents He kept locked up in a cage Damien, Damien, product of our love