Preach on the sanctuary of the dead, where the serpent's twisted slime is found.
The teachings of the Fall are spoken over the blackened abyss.
The malice of the Lord found in everyone's decaying false heart.
Distorted by the power of light out to the true will, by darkening truths.
Your god of false happiness must not have his will to live on, in his afflicted disciples.
The primeval power of evil with its preaching beyond those slime-nested abyssal salts, takes hold of the will of all your hearts.