| Her cryptic whispers whistle through the winds
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| Creaking branches, tangled roots, entwined in ancient sin
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| The twisting timbers beckon me within
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| I can’t control the overwhelming urge
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| Something that lurks inside my skin
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| Her presence haunts my steps
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| I feel her every breath
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| I hear her whispers creep inside and down my spine
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| Our fates entwined, in my restless soul I find
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| The urge to purge this worthless life of mine
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| The mistress stares, her skin stretched tight and white
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| I’m lost within her sight on this starlight autumn night
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| Pervasive intentions, love fails to lust
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| Satanic séances
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| The succubus has struck
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| I can see her dead eyes as they are looking right through mine
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| Hollowing me out from the inside
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| I cannot resist the call, into her arms I wish to fall
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| My body feels foreign as her presence looms and conquers all
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| Hold your arms around me and bleed me fucking dry
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| Conjure this animosity in me
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| Dragging me into apathy
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| Besiege, she’s taking control
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| Feels like I’m losing it all, her hands round my throat
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| Underneath her scarlet cloak, sinful pleasures she invokes
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| To reap me of my soul and seed in sin we spawn sick blasphemy
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| The floor then opens up wide, emerging from the ground
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| Sharp claws and wretched sounds
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| Twisted horns arise
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| Her lovely skin begins to peel and rot
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| Vile visions lay before my eyes
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| Unearthly horrors swirl, bestowed unto this world
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| I can hear them laugh at me
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| I fell for trickery and now the beast is free to plague humanity
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| Ten thousand hands pull me to the deep, six faces in the flames their whispers
|
| make me weep
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| The sons of Satan stare into my eyes, the moon is dead, rains runs red
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| Tonight the end is nigh
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| Eat the children, bury the breathing, rise unholy serpents of deceiving
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| Eat the children, bury the breathing, rise unholy serpents
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| Eat the children, bury the breathing, rise unholy serpents of deceiving
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| Let me go
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| I helplessly witness in misery, horrors I have unleashed
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| The flames surrounding me and now I burn in regret
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| To the woods we never go, for evil there it grows
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| The witch is waiting
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| She whispers towards you, baiting
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| To lure unlucky ones into her grasp of thorns |