Behold the profane sun
The center of this spinning cosmic void
The shards of life, our creators dying dust
The chasms call, churning lunar winds
Apollo's wrath, a summons to us all
The center of this spinning cosmic void
The shards of life, our creators dying dust
The chasms call, churning lunar winds
Apollo's wrath, a summons to us all
When the martyr falls from grace from heaven's rusted cage
The seven moons align and the abyss flows with tears
When the fragments of all hope lie scattered in the sand
These visions I invoke shall plague the son of man
The serpents maze, the crumbling walls of gods shattered dream
The ruins of light, the last throes of man
Illusions fall, twisting cosmic black
The grand design of this godless morning star
When the martyr falls from grace from heaven's rusted cage
The seven moons align and the abyss flows with tears
When the fragments of all hope lie scattered in the sand
These visions I invoke shall plague the son of man
Bronze veils on virgin flesh
The cry of souls in Pluto's wake
A messiah comes on hooves of sin
Salvation by the serpent's touch
Awaken the realms of Dis, twirling rings of grief, fire and loss
The vortex throne, misshapen perverse lust
Empyrean coils cover the ebon sky
The jester laughs upon his crippled cross
When the martyr falls from grace from heaven's rusted cage
The seven moons align and the abyss flows with tears
When the fragments of all hope lie scattered in the sand
These visions I invoke shall plague the son of man
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