To Walk The Infernal Fields
From the abode of demons
A wing of the pentagram
Comes the juice that painted
My heart and my soul
Swept in black they are
Swept in black I am
From this soul come the eyes
that will look upon your ten
Beautiful heads with delight
My heart is the one
that will tend to your flames
and make them mine
My heart is yours...
I am your disciple
and therefore my own
Your weapon I will be
with the demons that possess me
We'll ride the seven sins of death
that takes me to katharsis
The sign of your horns
is my dearest vision
They impale all holy and weak
You watch me face the mirror
and see desecration
With my art I am the fist
in the face of god