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I) CULT OF THE SLEEPER

WE ARE THE SIGILS THAT BECKON DEATH!

With five candles lit and incense burning

I compel my soul to open the gate

With blood running thick and third eyes yearning

I place my heart into the hands of fate

Spill the blood, fill the cup, five chants from black pages,

I drink from the grail of ancients.

Fall... Deeper...

Rise... Sleeper...

I beg of things that are not of Christ.

Fall... Deeper...

I beg of things that are not of Christ.

Fall... Sleeper...

In this Cathedral of lies, my cold heart will chill the Zion Scriptures.

Only the cold word of hate and the sleeping dragon

Will awake these memories...

I beg of things that are not of Christ!

II) REYES OF THE COLD BLOOD

"Cold luminous eyes of blue,

May your gaze be my own,

For I crave the eternities of your forgotten race"

What will I see, through his eyes?

What will I feel, through his eyes?

...Reyes...

"WE ARE  THE SIGILS THAT BECKON DEATH,

WE ARE THE RIGHT ANGLES THAT ARISE

LEFT"

And though my heart may weep,

I am comforted at this loss...

"WE ARE  THE SIGILS THAT BECKON DEATH,

WE ARE THE RIGHT ANGLES THAT ARISE

LEFT"

And through these cold gates,

I will see you there if you shall await...

To bleed me dry.

Rise above, with all five angles,

Levitate, and the heavens we shall travel!

BLEED ME!

BLEED ME DRY!

III) GATE OF THE COLD SON

"PASSIVE MOON, ARCANE THRONE"

Are these the lands I've so yearned?

Are these the mountains of my blood?

I shall arise once again,

As the cold son

HEAR MY CALL!