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The crowd inside the stadium |
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Is staring at the darkened stage |
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Like believers in the inner sanctum |
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Like vultures in an iron cage |
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Hyped-up glands are spreading pheromones |
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The hint of underlaying aggression |
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The collective minds of sixteen thousand |
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Now prepared for a total psychic excess |
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And the band begins to play |
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They are here to raise some hell |
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To wake the dead |
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They are here to raise some hell |
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With the help of a collective mind |
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Gone mad The video-screen shows hypnotic scenes |
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Like fragments of distorted dreams |
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Reaching for the deepest spheres of mind |
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Where only evil one can find |
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The music is a sequence of hidden information |
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Plugged inside your cerebrum |
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Critical mass in its final devastation |
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They will evoke the demon wth their pounding drums |
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And the guitar is raging on |
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While the band is playing on |
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The brutal riot begins |
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Now all that was sane is gone |
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And darkness fills our hearts |
