| To watch and wait in whispers
|
| Within the scald of blisters
|
| Once interned in the dust below
|
| The vengeful one has risen, cold
|
| Entranced and frozen by these eyes
|
| His glare alone could drive the nails and crucify
|
| The snare of flesh confining souls from seed to the gasp
|
| But with vow of the death the soul can escape and be in your grasp
|
| The grave, this world. |
| Entombment has begun
|
| The grave, this world. |
| The spell of lord illusion
|
| Divine, our race was sicker within the hex of trickery
|
| Interned in dust beneath this hell will call to our belief
|
| Their faith will be buried alive. |
| His glare, alone
|
| Will see their breath through a god’s eye
|
| The snare of flesh confining souls from seed to the gasp
|
| But with vow of the death the soul can escape and be in your grasp
|
| The grave, this world
|
| Entombment has begun
|
| The grave, this world
|
| When facades fall, the wreath of barren skin
|
| When 'Old Nick' calls you’ll see what lies within
|
| The folly of second chances and evil claim its own
|
| The filth now romances, interned in dust below
|
| When facades fall, the wreath of barren skin
|
| When 'Old Nick' calls you’ll see what lies within
|
| The grave, this world. |
| Entombment has begun
|
| The grave, this world. |
| The spell of lord illusion |