His tongue conjured up fire
In hearts of hope that did smolder
With words as clear as the wind
Blades sprang from ashes again
Dance!
Sermon of the crooked cross
The pulpits rock with death
Chaos chorus deafening
Sure-footed might-machine
Dance floors of human flesh
Syncopated until the end
His dagger like eyes
Left you limp in their stead
Blood! Weak is the pride in your veins
Master! Gives your fear a face that you can hate
Iron! Is the solution to the problem
Slave! Is what you are, confirmed in unison
Entranced by the wolfshook
Hypnotized by blood
Condemned to the wolfshook
Accomplice in blood
His psalms emanate power
Beset with lightning and thunder
As you slip into trance
You swear allegiance to dance

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