His tongue conjured up fire In hearts of hope that did smolder With words as clear as the wind Blades sprang from ashes again
Dance!
Sermon of the crooked cross The pulpits rock with death
Chaos chorus deafening Sure-footed might-machine Dance floors of human flesh Syncopated until the end
His dagger like eyes Left you limp in their stead
Blood! Weak is the pride in your veins Master! Gives your fear a face that you can hate Iron! Is the solution to the problem Slave! Is what you are, confirmed in unison
Entranced by the wolfshook Hypnotized by blood Condemned to the wolfshook Accomplice in blood
His psalms emanate power Beset with lightning and thunder As you slip into trance You swear allegiance to dance