| Before my altar, the phallus God never had
|
| Our fallen angel, supposed dead?
|
| Mankind so pitiful, still on our knees
|
| In this world of angels, Satan’s supremacy
|
| Before my altar
|
| I am not the deceived
|
| Before my altar, the demon king, or a shape of him
|
| I speak in silence, word so unreal
|
| And this my journey, through out my catacombs
|
| Echo’s of former deities in shape of worms
|
| Deceived? |
| Not! |
| Sanity is cloaked in madness
|
| Conscious but still asleep, I’m drained
|
| Trapped in sustained animation
|
| World of glass, shattered hope
|
| Some turn to their oppressors
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| I turn to my redeemer, I see the beauty of it all…
|
| I-BE-LIVE!
|
| I-BE-LIVE!
|
| I-BE-LIVE!
|
| I-BE-LIVE!
|
| Formless in it’s own existence
|
| I face the darkness
|
| Before my altar, the phallus God never had
|
| Our fallen angel, supposed dead?
|
| Mankind so pitiful, still on our knees
|
| In this world of angels, Satan’s supremacy
|
| I see the demons, beauty, redeemers
|
| Guardians of the world between
|
| Claws ripping through the atmosphere
|
| I’m not alone
|
| Before my altar
|
| Before my altar
|
| Riddles unfold
|
| I’m calm
|
| So tired
|
| So…
|
| I-BE-LIVE!
|
| I-BE-LIVE!
|
| I-BE-LIVE!
|
| I-BE-LIVE! |