Well what have we here Is it a pilgrim from the asylum Carried aloft By a friend to our lady of sin Where to begin Listen well, boy There are two bells to ring The parish above The blighted bog found deep below And their guardians Still thirst for your cursed blood Drop your sign For the brothers in need to find I will walk through the fog As I welcome death I will pillage these bodies I will feed to the fire These shards of a soul A magnificent father In a desperate attempt To stave off the end of his age He runs himself hollow And burns all his knights alive A shell of his former self They lock him away Far beneath this crumbling shrine A radiant sun Forged by the feeble hands of a child Not fit for his throne A clever deceit To make everyone believe The lords haven't left them behind Like a moth Fluttering towards a flame Vereor nox If only I could be so grossly incandescent I will march through the dark Like the hero before me I have died many times I'm replete with humanity