A wind of ashes mixed awe and wonder for these The yearner, the hallows, the specter and I And the arrows pointed to the core As songs are sung for the tender ones
Its the black thrash attack A rush of agony mixed lust and terror for these The burden, the flock, the masters and I And a fairytale was soaked in blood
As remembrance prowled on through the night A whiff of divinity brought scents of murder to this The heavens, the masquerade, the winged one and I And our shades were gracefully enshrined
A sepulchral voice did drain the soakened sky A slice of atrocity linked rage and pride To the sight of the heavens in its last throes of death And my hands shaked and curled triumphantly
In this black thrashing night of infernal hell...