In a season of dead lust  In a season of agony  Pain springs out for an aeon to rule  The banes of our newfound gods have arrived  As the Necropolis grows, they approach from the belows  The world is in shadows swept,  and only Baphomet can still erect His seed falls cold,  for the world is now far too old Yes, our towers must fall,  and with them we all  These concentrationcamps are silent unto ears  In neonlights they hide unseen  We know not the name of he who has come  But his day is the night, and darkness his light  As the Necropolis grows, they approach from the belows  The world is in shadows swept,  and only Baphomet can still erect  His seed falls cold,  for the world is now far too old  Yes, our towers must fall,  and with them we all  In the corner darkness moves for me  The scourge that will alter eternity into days  The suicide-culture below wants my pain  Only to them something will remain  As the Necropolis grows, they approach from the belows  The lover of Tiamat is not dead,  in secret striving for new ways of killing himself   And by the Ancients curse our blood will soon do Kingus deed  We'll never reach too high  The world is in shadows swept,  and only Baphomet can still erect  His seed falls cold,  for the world is now far too old  Yes, our towers must fall,  and with them we all  In a collection of absolute nothingness is where to set a new breed,  unknowing of that we still bleed  Dead but dreaming we wait for pains aeon again...  In their veins...