| In the center of the night
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| We become unable tell where the darkness end and we begin
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| Where worlds collide in bleak stains
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| Echoes of our intense calling resounds
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| Deeper and deeper, in places out of reach
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| The names called are breeding and multiplying through themselves
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| It leaves me numb with sheer fear!
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| Still, with the chains of effort shattered
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| I force the mind to depart into places of unbridled lust
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| Temples shunned and forbidden, where ashes are born without fire
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| I stare myself blind at the stranger in the mirror
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| In the nexus of contradiction, in the commotion in between
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| The speaking serpent walks
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| As an uninvited guest in the flesh of a pious man
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| In sleepless hours, in restless woe
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| A stranger is born within
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| Alike an angel of sinister hunger, scourging the roots of life
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| Nerve by nerve
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| And when we dare to lose ourselves to that aching silence
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| With a fiendish notion even unto ourselves —
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| A phoenix brought back into suffering
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| Imagine what could be sleeping in abodes like these,
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| When their outer shells shine with the fires of hell!
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| Where the substance of god is fouled, and we are nowhere
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| Vessels for the nameless, hallucinations that grow into bridges to possession
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| We are nowhere, we are nowhere!
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| Slaves!
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| Kneeling with heads touching burning coal
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| Are you not as ashes born without flames —
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| Here, where the veil separating night and day is so thin?
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| For your eyes burn with forbidden fire
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| Through sleepless hours, in restless woe
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| You face the mirror forced to confess —
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| The world is so much darker now
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| And we are nowhere!
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| At the diabolist coven
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| Wading in the water of astral shadows
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| At the shore line
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| A breach between the worlds |