LYRIC

Dead like a priest hung from a tree

Ropes drawn about his armpits

Crows have picked his eyes away

Flesh is scarred and ripped to shreds

The crucifix still hanging cold

Dancing slow to the wind of the north

His faith couldn’t save him, nor could his god

Weak human destiny, nothing pure inside

His soul cried for angels

But I raped it endlessly

A thousand days of torment

Doomed to fucking die

Hopeless, starved, miserable

You’ll see the eye of Master

Never will you see the light

Morbid fate of a mortal man

Mortal worms – crushed by

The hammer of the Nocturnal

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