When the moon becomes a mass for the pentagram,
The rage will swell as night grows bright
And it will search for those to brave and master the art of bleeding out
This horrid fiend of the black would sever the wings of angels and then save souls
Hunger will call on the night,
Tricking the gods
My breath, my eye, my air are yours to form
Into the shape
When the moon incants it's oath to an ancient law,
The end of man will be his fright and even death will cling to this master
Whose stench brings nightmares to the blind
And the scream of the moon elect
Darkness will feed in their eyes (their eyes)
As scream becomes their song (their song)
Darkness will feed in their eyes
In the night they're beyond the fatal
Darkness will feed in their eyes (their eyes)
As scream becomes their song (their song)
Darkness will feed in their eyes
In the night they're beyond the fatal
Hunger will call on the night,
Tricking the gods
My breath, my eye, my air are yours
I'm formless now
Run, run with you dusk before it is ravaged
And torn from beneath you
Curse, this curse of the star
Feasting on mortals and tricking the gods... of the gods
When the moon becomes a mass for the pentagram,
The rage will swell as night grows bright
And it will search for those to brave
And master the art of bleeding out
This horrid fiend of the black would sever
The wings of angels and your soul
When hunger calls on the night
Your fatal flesh will be too torn for eyes
Darkness will feed in their eyes (their eyes)
As scream becomes their song
Darkness will feed in their eyes,
In the night they're beyond the fatal
Darkness will feed in their eyes (their eyes)
As scream becomes their song (their song)
Darkness will feed in their eyes
In the night they're beyond the fatal.