Consumed by tongues of fire burning like 
Phlegethon
Holy gardens reduced to ash
Extinguishing light of hope, bringing the end of the days
Words of my gospel scattered
Sacrilegious scorn spat in pale creeds
Thin is the line between pure being and pure nothing
My sole companion woe to 
TheeAt my command
Let the blood of the infants flood the streets of 
BethlehemO ye of little faith with ethics rotten in a moral cage
Dead meat thrown down to the worms
To feed religious tumor corrupting marrow of repugnant swirl
At my command
Let the blood of the infants flood the streets of 
BethlehemAt my command
Let the heads of 
Samaritan pave my ways
Shemhamforash
Shemhamforash
Shemhamforash