Can you hear them?
Their weary screams of agony,
Traveling back,
From the blackest regions of their hereafter
You may have to hollow me
To understand this mortal blasphemy
We are born of the blackest hearts:
We all are heirs to the morningstar
Do you hear the caitiff choir?
Faithful to none but themselves
Now do you see them?
Can you see me now?
Can you see that we are?
Born of the blackest hearts,
We are all heirs to the morningstar
Disheartening, isn't it
To find that man is inherently perverse
Disheartening, isn't it
That man is inherently evil
Do you hear the caitiff choir,
Faithful to none but themselves?
We are of the blackest hearts;
We all are heirs to the morningstar