|
Deep in the dark of the forest came calls of sound from the wolverine |
|
As they danced their wicked dance round the fire in a dead trance |
|
Raising the chalice to the night darkly seek to their own delight |
|
Sacrifice to the only son saving blood sip it one by one |
|
Cleansing the altar awaiting the prize the virgin clad whiter than snow |
|
Holding the mass and presenting the cross pointed inverted below |
|
Doubles the blade in the cold and blessed night holds it above to be marked |
|
Hammering down in the soft flesh below ripping and tearing the heart |
|
Oh lord of this limbionic state take the prize we deliver to the gate |
|
Cloven the demons cloak ascends from the earth this being never ends |
|
As they fall to their knees and prey as the night reimburse the day |
|
Colder than any mortal thing his hands stretch to infinity |
|
All encompassing the flock there's no life in here any more |
|
Deeper than hades he brings to his side the man who presented the mass |
|
Questioning nothing the high priest is drawn kneels to his master's request |
|
Talking his left hand and passing it slow he ponders the mortal before |
|
Swiftly he moves and faster than hell he tears out this lunatics soul |
|
Oh lord of this limbionic state take the prize we deliver to the gate |
|
Cleansing the altar awaiting the prize the virgin clad whiter than snow |
|
Holding the mass and presenting the cross pointed inverted below |
|
Doubles the blade in the cold and blessed night holds it above to be marked |
|
Hammering down in the soft flesh below ripping and tearing the heart |
|
Oh lord of this limbionic state take this prize we deliver to the gate |
|
Deep in the dark of the forest came calls of sound from the wolverine |
