Letras
You try to feast on my blood
Instead I'll feast on your brain
I will consume your mind
Hollow statements and pain
Let me me serve you a plot twist
You would never expect
And extract all the poison
You attempt to inject
Dracula, I'm done playing your game
Now you are my target
And I'm taking aim
Stuck in a portrait frame
You're serving me mind games
With a side of gin
Your tonics aren't fruitful
Your patience's wearing thin
Shooting through your heart
Wooden missiles, a game of dart
Claiming back my power
As the clock strikes witching hour
Dracula, I'm done playing your game
Now you are my target
And I'm taking aim
Dracula, I'm done playing your game
Now you are my target
And I'm taking aim
Stuck in a portrait frame