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In the I lies the martyr, the willing sacrifice |
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Stand before the self destructive sadist |
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Hand him the knife |
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Because he owns the illusion |
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In pain revel the fear, the value of blood |
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Sharpen all edges to blind the chimera |
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Sigh; the masters of the earth will no longer kneel |
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Rip a wound that will never heal |
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Then mend the loss of Christ |
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Unfolding the rivalry of white dreams wishes |
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And the sign of the horns shall appear to many |
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In birth the wicked dwell |
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In a human shell |
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Ashes of the original sin lies therein |
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And each one born |
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Will be a regent in an age of the horn |
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In pain revel the fear, the value of blood |
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Sharpen all edges to blind the chimera |
