The cellar pa**age is connected
To the instinctive fulcrum of the cross to eleven
The lacks of breath chokes the act of praying
And there's no way out from this cursed place
Now I know what's the meaning of the words
"To deserve Hell, eternal deserve"
Anguish drive me crazy, empty and depress
Unknown fear frighten me
The one in hell doesn't speak, it's a deep prostration state,
Where emptiness and anguish totally get the upper hand over everything
God left this place too, because he renounced to pretend my soul
The winged b**h of prostitution wants me to celebrate our marry
When I asked to the medium what's the undead world,
She enigmatically answered me,
Telling about my future and my destiny, fear in my head,
Ready to face the worst things
All my worries and troubles were written
In this page and recorded in this tape
This place gives no space to pray your God,
Because you're un-awared but possessed
Fear and anguish flowing along these walls
Are much bigger than the usual harmony of the soul
I don't believe to all that poets,
Preachers and Satanists who talk about hell
They describe an estetic
Romantic and decadent evil
But evil is really not as they say