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