The dead speaks to me From beyond the grave That is why my conscience is I've buried the dead alive The blood of the child is pure now In d**h it gives me life The circle is complete Begin another... Dark cold icy d**h As the scorpion stings the minds obsessed A venomous kiss of profane grace As shades of hatred reigns Silent screams of suffering I stand in flames of torturing Goddess of flesh hunger and desire
Grant me wings of hellish fire Know that all my creations spring From blood on the cross in blasphemy I am d**h the creator of sin And of the pure I am the wind The dance of creeping shadows Enchanting all insania I've become evil in soul and mind In a demonoid fantasia A venomous kiss of profane grace In a world so fundamentally weak I see no beginning only the end