Damned Be Those of the Craft
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Down below, down the ground
Near the willows, such horrid smells
Soon to see their nights pass by
Into cold, tranquil black velvet smells
As the corpse, through tattered skin
The boils deep with shallow burns
Second comes the skin of snakes
With venom teeming to complete their curse
Our souls are not for the taking
Not in vain, we shall die with pride
Pouring salt blood
Into the black unholy book
We have sold our souls to Lucifer
We know you'll not hear
Our except for mortal eyes
We are not the dead yet
But who's ground on earth is made of lies
Down below, down the ground
Down below, down the ground