Grave insomnia has now obtained my strung out mind. Robbed 

of the one place that gives me solitude from them. I must now 

face the perfected madness that will eat me as I'm slowly turning 

into what I dread. 


Deprived of sight, my introverted eyes guides my awake steps into 

sinfulness. Profane is the soul purpose here, I know it and still I 

let my inner steer me. 


I am becoming the infestation, now it's clear what I intend to do 

As I reach the house of god I'll take and keep my price forever. 


Render my prey as I descend, render my prey. 


Web of cords stretched from heel to throat. With Iron ropes I 

strap him down and hard. The blood in my plams shimmers with 

the rust. Caught in a lonesome sermon he never saw me come. 


Dragged out from his abode, a robe of the fallen now bestowed. 

Useless struggling for it's not my mind that drives my actions 

It is clearly a non human authority. 


Solo: O'Brien 


Candles of a thousand not lit by hands of man. In my blinded 

darkness, lights my depraved path. 


Where's my solace, this deed gave me no fractions of inner peace 

Although I know I have him alive, a purpose I dear not quest for 

nor implement. 


Through serpent eyes I watch my hands do carnal damage 

as they hung him up, swinging from the ceiling upside down. 


Render my prey as I descend, render my prey 


Web of cords stretched from heel to throat. With Iron ropes I 

strap him down and hard. The blood in my plams shimmers with 

the rust. Caught in a lonesome sermon he never saw me come