Interpret:

Lamb Of God

Album:

New American Gospel

The dark crow man sits and stares 
into the oblivion into cold into nothingness; 
it's snowing in his mind.
He's created himself in his own image. 
Lust held for him means naught, 
a knock on the door 
brings no smile to his cruel lips;
the welcome in a woman's eyes 
holds nothing for him.
Alone on his haunches 
the hair raises on the back of his neck. 
His dead eyes pierce the night.
As his gaze falls down on the city 
it fills him the method ascertained, conviction.
He knows what to do and 
moves to commit the deed.