| Incantations rise from shrouded
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| faces in the night
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| As plumes of smoke dance
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| in candelabra’s light
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| It is time
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| Beneath the mournful shadows of the trees
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| a haze of incense swirls
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| and casts its stench upon the breeze
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| Rising to the sky with chants
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| of praise and ecstasy
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| The Ritual has begun
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| Bring forth the cursed knife
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| and raise the ancient key on high
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| Touch not its gilded surface
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| for it contains the blood of christ
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| Now spill the blood upon the earth
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| within the master’s evil sign
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| and plunge the knife into the star of
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| diabolical design
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| Gaze in wonder as it drinks
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| our sanguinary offering
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| Hear the infernal wail as
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| the master begins to rise
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| swelling up from festering slime,
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| sinews crack and snap together,
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| tendons entwine
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| a putrid rebirth of unholiest kind
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| Feel the blistering heat emitting
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| from the wretched flames
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| frothing forth the night
|
| as the master usurps the ancient key
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| with a chilling shriek of pure delight
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| Bow your heads and praise his name
|
| The master has returned again
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| Sanguinary ritual.
|
| Sanguinary rites. |