The fires of perdition burn in me,

Slips away like life, like my mind,

And I view the world with clarity.



Where cultists worship a forbidden God,

Their pedestals stained by a baby's blood,

We'll sell our souls for a taste of I.D,

Our minds exchanged for insanity.



Prechorus,

I am him; Lord of

Murderers and liars,

I cast thee down,

Into the Fires



Chorus

Ignorance permits thee a life of peace,

But when the dark lord awakens, the pain won't seize,

For locusts eat your eyes,

Rivers flow with gore,

And I will get the evil that I adore,

For many plagues will take thee,

You'll worship God then for sure,

Praying for salvation from the Lord of Terror,

But judgement is made, no forgiveness, so cruel,

Nothing to save you from the eater of worlds...



Me.



Three kings came to greet the virgin's child,

With gifts for the son of God,

The first gave gold, the treasure of old,

He'd stolen it from a blind man's robe,



The second, "I bring frankincense",

For perfumes, that would make some sense,

So the wise king would incite,

The son of God smelt like shite.



Third king brought a dose of myrrh, 

Used for embalming the newly dead,

He deprived it from a rabi's corpse,

"To assrape Christ is the plan" he said.



A fourth king, darker than the rest,

Pulled a far better gift from within his chest,

He knelt on one knee before the manger,

And in a hellish voice spoke the stranger,

"The gifts of the three, were crude and thoughtless,

For I the devil bring thee darkness."



I am him; Lord of

Murderers and liars,

I cast thee down,

Into the Fires



Chorus