Wings grow from my back, I cut them on the spot at night
|
Black feathers glide in the dark, time has come velyal at work
|
We are looking for pieces of living flesh in the alleys, we carry them to our castle for a ritual
|
We will cover our writings with skin, we will fill the glasses with blood to the brim
|
The cult needs more adherents, in our pharmacy syrup without a prescription
|
Don't panic, homie - you got into a sect, we eat these bitches like Hannibal Lecter
|
In our protection, Cyrex and the Sector, an evil corporation and I am the director in it
|
From the tower, a searchlight is directed into the sky
|
From stone gargoyles - Lucifer the architect
|
We are like the Templars and this is our order, in it every novice is free from God
|
There is no holiness here, only the heat of hell, have a black heart and you will be good
|
A contract was signed with blood from a vein, there is no turning back - we do not forgive treason
|
In your DNA now vs genes, you serve only us, you are a stage player
|
The texts of Goetia burn, claws dig into the skin
|
God help them, the burnt smell of their flesh
|
Eating them shawti for breakfast, got caught in these nets
|
We fly on the spot, on autopilot, you're in the audio sect
|
Death twists opposite, death chills opposite
|
Let's kick back in the ice grotto
|
A smoky coffin, we pour our syrup into wine
|
Chilled through trip gives way to sleep
|
Squad banner of snakes medusa gorgon
|
Her ancient blood fills the vials
|
Walking in the dark mile after mile
|
contemplating style
|
In gardens of dead withered lilies
|
Rot petals
|
Flickering in the darkness on skill
|
The days have flown by
|
The shamans honored the departed
|
The lights went out
|
Draw a circle with chalk
|
Around the dance of pale bitches
|
You weren't that cool
|
RIP everything to our bru
|
Draw a circle with chalk
|
Around the dance of the dead bitches
|
Smoke covers a fresh corpse
|
Wrapping around the body like an octopus |