---

The sky, like blotting paper,

Absorbs the cold night.

Sinister flash on the horizon.

Where death ride.

My eyes, petrified by this din,

Inject with cursed blood,

Stabbed by the blades

Of the night's lights.

The wind stirs my hooked hair,

Like the talons of a raptor,

Clinging slowly on my head

Like morbid perch

I taste those sharp fangs

To flay me without restraint,

So that I may taste

the first fruits of hell.

I speak to you, dear listener,

I share with you a little

my macabre adventure,

You pride yourself

on this bloody discovery

And you revel in

these deadly pleasures,

I cannot blame you

Come to my table

This is my blood.

This is my flesh.

The sky, like blotting paper,

Absorbs the cold night.

Sinister flash on the horizon.

Where death ride.

My eyes, petrified by this din,

Inject with cursed blood,

Stabbed by the blades

Of the night's lights.