Glazed with hardened blood, roasted flesh suspends from ashened stakes
Offerings of souls and deals of one whom providence forsakes
They feared not God, relied on the hand of the wicked and now must sense the thorns
The snares of death devour the flesh, souls shelter with the worms
In lower regions of the earth, serpents sharp their fangs to serve the king of fear
In the caves of death, dark and damp, they squirm and quirt their lethal spear
Drink from the cup of the holy one or cross your grim nightmare
To be sacrificed before the fire, entombed in black despair.