From rotten infections
The worm consumes our souls
With toxin injections
Our truth becomes so wicked
And on and on it goes
Sulphur and blood
Mirrors and gods
Found them bound inside
My friend, serpentine skull
As the dose inflicts our faith
And its strength resolves our veins
The soul of a horned serpent mind
We serve the pentagram tonight
The weakened resistance
The snake reroute our show
Our naked reflections
Our truth is found in filth
Beyond all sane, it burns