| I can feel turmoil in the depths of my flesh In cephalic cancer and my derranged fetish I feel the moon burning red as magma And the sun as black as death All burning to the voice of a great red dragon I imagine the seven angels sounding across the world Giving my wreckage to swarms of locusts Giving torments and torments and torments I am a silouhette against the burning red sky Fiending for the death I crave Waiting for a pale horse to ride over this world I bear strawberry gashes upon my skin And blackness where my eyes used to be Blackness where my eyes no longer exist I can see the seven angels In the seven corners of the earth Giving the hell that I crave I feel a great horn pressing into my ribs Through my heart And then through my spine A third angel shall sound And there will fall a great star from heaven Burning as it were a lamp Blackness will devour a third of the earth Blackness will devour a third of it's life And there will be blackness for the soul of man |
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