Phantoms of Mortem Tales

A burning lust for pleasure less desire A needless urge to kill Fearful thoughts, a strength we admire With hate that their minds are fulfilled Like tyrants, living life in wrath Like wizards, vanishing into the dark: As black divine gods Born under crimson rain Taking lives in seductive ways Putrefy the human skin Feeding the demons within Nailed to the heavenly cross You will die with the taste of dust Praise your demonic saviour Erase your memories of god Like wolves, howling to the night Like beasts, living beyond the light: As black divine gods --- Phantoms of Mortem Tales - Old Man's Child