The winds of death have blown the ashes from my urn Nary a glance cast back, my rotted tomb of flesh was burned Unfolding corridors towards twisting fractal zones Emerging from their depths, Insectoid Masters chant their eerie tones Looking back into your world Through ectoplasmic gaze I see naught but a masquerade In which you're pawns & cogs & slaves We hate the living, You disgust us with your fears Deny & lie, oh, how you try, Come time to die you'll find me waiting here... Lead: "Ancestral Choirs In the Night" by Bruss
The winds of death have blown the ashes from my urn Nary a glance cast back, my rotted tomb of flesh was burned Unfolding corridors towards twisting fractal zones Emerging from their depths, Insectoid Masters chant their eerie tones Looking back into your world Through ectoplasmic gaze I see naught but a masquerade In which you're pawns & cogs & slaves We hate the living, You disgust us with your fears Deny & lie, oh, how you try, Come time to die you'll find me waiting here... Lead: "Ancestral Choirs In the Night" by Bruss
