Lyrics of 'The Concubines Of Debauchery' by Emil Bulls

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It slips back to bad old ways the plague is coming home
The concubines of debauchery sing their slinky song
The blood it's pumping in our heads
We´re foaming at the mouth
Like greedy dogs we're wainting for you to set us free
Epiphany
Won´t you come...

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