| Behind the tower stands a chapel
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| Pillars of gold reach for the stars
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| The sight of arcane ritual orders
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| Where mystic practice runs it’s course
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| Forbidden to all but the highest
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| A sacred corner, fortified
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| By invitation of the ruler
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| Come witness it with us tonight
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| The gathered party fills the courtyard
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| In a circle, on their knees
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| A single torch lights up the centre
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| The ashen slab’s expecting thee
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| At dusk the oaken doorway opens
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| A fevered tension starts to rise
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| Chanting penetrates the silence
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| The ceremony comes alive
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| Out of the shadows
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| The hooded priests appear
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| Clouded in incense
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| That hangs in the air
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| Dragging of chains
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| As they march down the steps
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| Make the decision
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| Of whose turn is next
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| Screaming and crying
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| The chosen ones are led
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| Onto the altar and
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| Bound by their heads
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| Feel the damp chill
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| Of cold blood on your cheek
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| Embrace the stone
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| It’s the last thing you’ll ever see
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| The curse has brought destruction
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| For all that used to be |