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Demon Lung
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Mark of Jubilee
somewhere upon her skin is the mark
the mark of Jubilee
my love Justine now hangs crucified
you will all die soon
her last breath lingers in the air
the ambience of sorrow entombs, closing
stillness glares out from her eyes
reflection of our future gleams
from the pool of her cold blood
the primal sense of losing all
echoing through the caverns of my marrow
monument of despair
this emptiness will soon be filled
with the wrath of my vengeance
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I swear here and now by the one called Belphegor
her spilled blood will not go unanswered or ignored
this night will be your last, for our pact must be seen through
my curse, strengthened by the deaths of all of you
heed my call
to Aamon
heed my call
to Astaroth
penance for holy sinners
your deaths shall be merciless
and by the glory of the morning Star
pray for Justine
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