The Black Hand Of Set

(альбом: Festivals Of Atonement - 1995)

Eaters of human flesh
Hath eaten
Unlawful flesh
Upon our brethren
They have feasted
Seed of our father
We must now avenge

In secret conclave we gather
To rain destruction
On those we have cursed

With vile black arts
And tempestuous rage
We vent our wrath
Red blood stains my hands and
Damns my soul

You will drink the black sperm
Of my vengeance!

The mighty voices of my vengeance
Smash the stillness of the air
And stand as monoliths of wrath
Upon a plain of writhing serpents

I call upon the messengers of doom
To slash with grim delight
This victim I hath chosen
Feed upon his brain-pulp
Rend his throat
Pierce his lungs
With the strings of scorpions

Oh Kali
Oh Sekhmet
Oh Dagon