[Instrumental]

Gods of night, together with you, I destroy
Suppressed with pain, vile and sick
Twisted flames, horrid cries
Screams of hate, condemning all my prey
Ancient curse, morbid priest
The alter I give praise

Sadistic spell, unleash my fate
Reclaim the dark world, I desecrate

Descending souls, recite the spell
Reclaim my throne, sacred ground
Concealed by chaos, the suffering begins
I pray in homage, the wrath complete
The body has decayed

Told him the secret name
Secret shapes within the ancient horde
Great gods hear me, I disembody

The words of my doom which they have spoken
May they melt like wax
Three watchers of the night, dissolve the evil

As we journey over to the summit
We hear the echoes of dispossession
Who is to worry about our affliction
When my body departs from the shame
The wickedness my sinfullness
You may swell to the elysian fields
But the befall of Marduk will trace the literal thruth
The Utuk xul! Wine's Holy Fool!
Whereby to capture and atone the clouded soul
The weeping apparition looks for duration
Conjectures of being vulgar, then godless ways
Euphony sounds the sanctum bell
I will structure the ordained spell
Guide the mistress versus the throne
Here's the first seed of the inquisition
Black lake current sailed past the rushes
Dismal heights will melt the scarlet snow
I'll give my sorrow to the lady in white
'O' pale flower, you'll feel the vein in depth.'
The wanderers of the eroded
The gates of Ganzir!
The Magnum Opus
The Xenolith!
Monuments of a vanquished civilization
A cenotaph of theomorphic conjurations
Sempiternity of the ones of our underworld
Archetypal images awaits the declivity
Infinite and profane thrones
Absymal sighs of the damned
Feel the intention by depressing your own god

Descent To Acheron (Evolving Into The Progression Of Woe)

Pour water on thyself
Thus shalt thou be
A creator of the sun
Charon will inhibit his entrance
The fields and dwellings of relapsing ruins
Find thou thyself in every star
Achieve thou every possibility
Listen! Heed not the siren-voice of thought
The fable of river #5
Deliverme athwart the earth
Forsaken loam of wondrous slumbers
Thee spiritual and thee fertile
A spawn of full equilibrium
But whose availeth is in this,
For hereby there comenth impair

Facillis descensus Acherni
Noctes atque dies patet
Atri ianua Charnus
Sed revocare gradun sperasque
Evadere ad aurus,
Hoc opus, hic labor est.

[repeat 1st verse]

There was not a formal sepulcher
Not one sector for the interment
Throth with thee empire of hope
All effects are welcome to Styx