Words Of The Prophet


I readthe signs from the eyes of the dead, and saw the seed of still-born tomorrow
I heard the future from the realms of hell, the symphonies burdened with sorrow

There would be a Messiah, not quite the saviour they promised you
In Him the sensations of pain arise, He is the redeemer, the devourer of light

From the fear inside you would born disorder,
spreading like rats upon ruins (like despair among angels)
bringing forth the "apocalypse" and all it holds inside

The true gift from the kingdoms beyond

There would be a messiah, not quite the saviour they promised you
In Him all nightmares resite
He is the redeemer, the devourer of fucking light

And there would be legions triumphant!
Bloodstained hands speaking of their devotion
Thousand times thousand wings would whip the air

Inbred bastards of jehovah!
No need to fear the abyss, no need to shed a tear, not a single soul would
be sent to hell
For Hell is what we'd have here!







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