As the Moon shines upon us. The dagger cuts through flesh. Guiding flames burn in rage. Helpless screams fill the air... At the strike of midnight. Rites of Hell are performed. At the strike of midnight. Your pitiful life will cease... On this sacred night we rejoice. Holiest crimson blood will flow. To your god we deliver your soul. The Reaper sharpens his scythe... At the strike of midnight. Rites of Hell are performed. At the strike of midnight. Your pitiful life will cease... As the Moon sets on the horizon. The dagger is clean from blood. Flames have turned to embers. We now depart to return again... At the strike of midnight. Rites of Hell are performed. At the strike of midnight. Your pitiful life will cease... Cease!