Something sinister is lurking deep within,
Its bottomless hunger is filling with sin,
The seven of us are stories to be told,
As we take apart each one of our souls,
The fear is creeping in the shadows of our mind,
Our seven hearts are dying mournfully with time,
We are not afraid of the milking state,
Its liquid white hunger is all that we can take,
The taste is sweet as it burns our mouth,
As hard as we try we cannot keep the sinister out.