Joint depression, this congregation of the foul
The ceremony of unlight, where the wrongful are called
A child’s step weavers, as fragile as their souls
At the threshold of misfortune; here you don’t belong
Don’t bring them here in the warmth of damnation there’s more joy
Bring a knife and a chalice, bring the virgin of grail
Strip her to shatters of void to haunt in between the aisles
All once pure is now lost, forged to null and stale
Never again speak with words to me
Your blood means nothing to me
Never again look at the face of him
Your blood means nothing to him
Don’t bring them here in the warmth of damnation there’s more joy