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