Desolation, ruin, and impurity
To the desert where he was cast
Dry scorching heat, four wings of fire
Few dare to tread Azazel’s path

Death is where he dwells
The curse of Azazel

As the chosen goat sent away
To the domain barren and wild
To carry the sins of the meek and lowly
An offering destined soon to die
Hidden current, the obscure path
Where the defiant one resides
Witchcraft and lust and weaponry
Are the gifts bestowed to those who seek

Death is where he dwells
The crown of Azazel

Cloaked in the shadows on a nocturnal prowl
Those whose deeds demand blood
Retribution condemns you to the grave
I have become Azazel’s blade

Desolation, ruin, and impurity
The wasteland where he dwells
War, lust, and witchery
The crown of azazel
Flesh cauldron is brimming with
Fiery vengeance and death logic
Demonic lore, secrets shunned
Scribbed in ancient scrolls
Unholy prayers to the unholy one
Turning forever from God
The blade I will unsheathe again
To become Azazel’s sword

From the desert waste I have returned
To wash your cities in sin
Ornament and perfume
Lilith the un-divine awakes
Sinless daughters and sinful wives
Seduced with serpentine caress
Wanton valleys of fornication
Flesh moans in unholy bliss

Cloaked in the shadows on a nocturnal prowl
Those whose deeds demand blood
Retribution condemns you to the grave
I have become Azazel’s blade