| I see that which you desire | |
| Costs their essence | |
| Your foul contemplation | |
| To hold the night in your castle of cold | |
| Drain the life of the pure ones | |
| Deadly maiden | |
| Let me inside | |
| Your face, hatred its design, | |
| Has claimed my mind, | |
| My foul contemplation. | |
| To drink the cup in the bleeding room old, | |
| Your dark hair grasps my fingers. | |
| Lady darkness, | |
| Black lust arise. | |
| The winds voice again | |
| Whispers her name | |
| Cachtice deliver me | |
| To the women I feed | |
| Your tender kisses of death | |
| Upon the faces of young | |
| Now my lips upon thine | |
| Spawn the next of our kind | |
| The winds voice again | |
| Whispers her name | |
| Cachtice deliver me | |
| To the women I feed |
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