Call Me Doom! - The Furor

Hung upon cross, rivers of holy blood must flow.

Covens appoint a grand new master,

Infernal sire, whoremonger of the deep,

The infinite within us bound in fire!

Defeat!

Image of Heaven

Embroil!

It’s sons in doom

Bewitch the mass!

Offer foes unto the devil

His fist, his essence, our arsenal!

Morbid pyre your granted doom, igniting redemption!

Holy bliss, submerged in fire, spreads sickness no more!

Crumbling vestures convene the mass, all phrases rewritten!

Tyrannous stronghold of the liar, bewitch with powers supernatural!

War on holiness hereafter!

Asat in which we’re dreaming,

Fails upon sunrise,

Bequeath with battle looming, crowned saviours in disguise,

Final fate before our eyes!

On unrest and loathing, trample the lone believers,

Clenched fist begotten, through torment glorious war and,

Ignorance obeys disaster, tempters bow to no-one,

Confess under warring masters, the crimes of the crucified son!

Rise unsettled spirits, death presiding over sermons glowing,

At last ashes remain!

Storms of scarlet sear, detested holy Ghost under fire,

Faith shaken in face of death!

Call me doom!

Divine essence of existence bled!