To Walk the Infernal Fields - Under a Funeral Moon
From the abode of demons A wing of the pentagram Comes the juice that painted My heart and my soul
Swept in black they are Swept in black I am
From this soul come the eyes that will look upon your ten Beautiful heads with delight
My heart is the one that will tend to your flames and make them mine We share this spirit My heart is yours...
I am your disciple and therefore my own Your weapon I will be with the demons that possess me We'll ride the seven sins of death that takes me to katharsis
The sign of your horns is my dearest vision They impale all holy and weak
You watch me face the mirror and see desecration With my art I am the fist in the face of god