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Álbum - The Waste Lands

Track 9 - Wolverine

Deep in the dark of the forest came calls of sound from the wolverine

As they danced their wicked dance round the fire in a dead trance

Raising the chalice to the night darkly seek to their own delight

Sacrifice to the only son saving blood sip it one by one

Cleansing the altar awaiting the prize the virgin clad whiter than snow

Holding the mass and presenting the cross pointed inverted below

Doubles the blade in the cold and blessed night holds it above to be marked

Hammering down in the soft flesh below ripping and tearing the heart

Oh lord of this limbionic state take the prize we deliver to the gate

Cloven the demons cloak ascends from the earth this being never ends

As they fall to their knees and prey as the night reimburse the day

Colder than any mortal thing his hands stretch to infinity

All encompassing the flock there's no life in here any more

Deeper than hades he brings to his side the man who presented the mass

Questioning nothing the high priest is drawn kneels to his master's request

Talking his left hand and passing it slow he ponders the mortal before

Swiftly he moves and faster than hell he tears out this lunatics soul

Oh lord of this limbionic state take the prize we deliver to the gate

Cleansing the altar awaiting the prize the virgin clad whiter than snow

Holding the mass and presenting the cross pointed inverted below

Doubles the blade in the cold and blessed night holds it above to be marked

Hammering down in the soft flesh below ripping and tearing the heart

Oh lord of this limbionic state take this prize we deliver to the gate

Deep in the dark of the forest came calls of sound from the wolverine