SIDE 1 - GRAVEWÜRM

1. CULT OF THE DYING GOD

Redeeming is for the weak
Honour is the way of the warrior
Worshipping a dying God
Helpless on his cross
A leader that can't be seen
Like foolish visions from a dream
Blind faith is not a test
Keep your worship for the rest
Deep down do you really believe
Or have you been really deceived?
By the cult of the dying God

Your sins, your lies, your God
To sin is to live
Desire, for lust, hellfire
In my soul it burns so bright
Deep down do you really believe
Or have you been really deceived?


2. KILLED BY THE CROSS (NUNSLAUGHTER COVER)

Nuns in the church living like whores
Spreading disease with their cancerous sores
Begging and pleading for a buck
When all they want from you is a fuck
Pay the church to lift your sins
You'll soon die in a coffin
Ripping the Flesh from the victims bones
No one can help you your all alone

You've been killed by the cross

Drink the blood of the lamb
Invert the holy cross
I kill the innocent
To please him and me


SIDE 2 - NUNSLAUGHTER

3. ON THE ICY PLAINS I DIE (GRAVEWÜRM COVER)

Born into this world of death
Feasting on the fallen ones
Living only to kill again
Why must I keep doing this

Traveling throughout these treacherous lands
Only to find another victim
I must fill my insatiable lust
Another one dies tonight

Death comes to all of them
I must see to their demise
Downfall comes to all of man
Their hour of death is now at hand

Why must I keep on killing why must I be the one
I take their only life I need to see their blood

I have lived for many years
I've killed all who came my way
Now I dwell where there's no life
On the icy plains I die
I die I die on the icy plains I die I die


4. THE RED RAM

When I have met the end
And the ground closes in
Don't tread my earthen state
For this beast guards my den

A conflagration from his fierce muzzle
The cloven hooves are sharp on edge
Horns curl thrice round his face
While wearing fur colored blood red

He is my guardian
While I rest in peace
Above these six feet of dirt
A ram with a crimson fleece

The Ovis dalli sanguine by
The light of the moon
He will graze on my rot
And bed down on my burial dune