No more a victim of a crusade
Where souls are strung from a moral palisade
I slit my wrists and quickly slip away...
I journey now on jewelled sands
Beneath a moon to Summerlands
To grace Her lips with contraband
The blaze once in my veins...
Exit
Sacrifice
Sigils Made of Flesh and Trees
Pyramid of Skulls
Apparitional Void of Failure
Exit
Horizon Of Plastic Caskets
The Light of Those Who Failed
Untitled
Unblessed Be
Telepáticos cujos
Inner Sanctum Surveillance
Beauty is Only Razor Deep
Obfuscated in Oblivion
Intro
Reflecting hateful energy
Blood From the Roots of the Forest
Possession of Desolate Magick
Damage Your Soul
May Your Void Become As Deep As My Hate