| Cold season offerings warm up the carnefix soul |
| A pale sun inhaling heat on this misplaced ground |
| Winter frost cursed us through the flames cremating the flesh |
| Weeping dried tears, my jolly fun was raping the nuns |
| I’m cursed raping the guts of life |
| I’m just one of the thousand pyers |
| I’ll be the last charred wizard |
| The unfinished one on the way of salem dying as a witch, carbonized |
| Impressed in my mind |
| The pyre within me, the evil is dead |
| A premature return to ashes |
| The pyre within me, the evil is dead |
| Am I simply burning on stake or on the inverted cross? |
| I’m flaming for holy joy on the ravages of the altars |
| Fire fries my skin, roast my meat and kills my instinct |
| I smell the stench of incineration, prelude to self ignition |
| Cold season offerings warm up the carnefix soul |
| A pale sun inhaling heat |
| Midnight strikes on the hill |
| The brightness of fire is into me |
| Ashes are scattered to the wind |
| A burnt corpse, it’s only me |
| Winter frost cursed us through the flames cremating the flesh |
| Weeping dried tears, my jolly fun was raping the nuns |