Come distortured artists   Bitter things seek meaning   Even if they're madness to behold   Once forbears to horizons   Where the dead stayed dreaming   Now nightmares waken souls   That fear the living's toll      Gova, Bosch and Brueghel   Three times moonwise stain thy graves   For words alone are at loss to trace   The face of today's inhuman wraith      One half adrift in the vast abyss   Of despair and misery   The other a mask of rich red lips   Whetted by the fevers of belief and greed      All damned in this inferno   Where even Virgil averts his eyes   From the black mass mutual gang rape   Of Caesing hands an forced divides      Trespass these seven gates   To a world bloodlet to shades   Where Seraphim bleat   Of their cold and coming Master's race   In the seweres of Babylon   Stillborn to a trough anon   Chimiracles will hatch like plots   To dredge faeces to pearl their cross      Enter Penteholocaust   Five aeons past, yet still Man grasps   At final straws to save his cast      His Lord is a leper we shall not want   He betrayed us with white lies   His acrid pall as of the tomb   Reminds us how we rot inside      Gutted like fool's paradise   Glutted on cruel appetites      Holding court to chaos   Folding to far graver arms   A downfall fatal to all resounds   As orgies peak in self centred psalms      And nature screams her sufferings   Under bowed and cankered wings   A bleak scorched Earth necrotica burning   Like the robes we've torn from her      She begs us lay her pain to rest   Lest we are left with nothingness   Save for her stripped and ravished flesh      And if her fate is not portent of Apocalypse   Then the comets that graxe nightskies   Will surely cleanse of wrongs and reichs   When you and I and all else dies      It's rotting down   This carcass Maggotropolis      Interdependent as worms to the grave   Allah's true name is naught   Chist cannot save   Locked in a waltz of evermore frantic steps   Spells of regret   Death Magick for Adepts      Be prepared to fulfill prophecies   The glorious fall of a sin dynasty      Gutted like fool's paradise   Glutted on cruel appeitites      We've woven hearts a thorn arbour   Left tear streaked reason upon the shore   And bereft of compass, star or more   Set out for this World's end   Few at the prow, most slave below   Painting coal a perfect gold   But for all it's worth, the engines slow   Dead in the brine again   Come cabin fever, sodomy on the bounty   Prey to phallus seas   That hiss and foam to douse disease   A storm roars on the way   Blacker than the Ace of Rapes   Dealt out by Death in darkwood glades   Our ship of fools, all boards handmade   Sinks, dashed by seismic waves