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