In the servitude mass
Where the goat cloak runs long and black
Behind the black eyes
Let us ride the winds of blood
For the blood will be spilt
In ritual
A feast among the dying
For the darkness has come

Lead me to the shining gates of Evisc
Upon chapel cross
Stab the lamb
It needs to be spilt
Spinning in reverse
Kaleidoscope
Artistic blood
Pray
And bless his soul
To Satan