A Scatterbrain Sings of Christians and The Ghoul Bares Teeth - Kiss the Anus of a Black Cat

Onwards here;

there’s mud to feed

And how many paving-stones?

Times will tell when Samael is near

And how many monikers more?

And curse the dead ones, scattered in the sea,

all you Christian thieves.

The fury of our songs is quenched

And how many broken chords?

What I despise has seeped through

And how many settlements more?

And curse the dead ones, scattered in the sea,

Onwards here if you believe.

And some of us would say

There is no hope.

Steer the rudder of the blindfolded.

A Wandering Jew who taunted me And how many teasers more?

The world too grand to feel free

And how many inner wars?

Curse the dead ones, scattered in the sea,

Onwards here if you believe.

And some of us would say

There is no hope.

Steer the rudder of the blindfolded.