1. TRICKING THE GODS

When the moon becomes a mass for the pentagram
The rage will swell as night grows bright
And it will search for those to brave
And master the art of bleeding out
This horrid fiend of the black would sever
The wings of angels and then save souls

Hunger will call on the night
Tricking the gods
My breath, my eye, my air
Are yours to form into the shape

When the moon incants it's oath to an ancient law
The end of man will be his fright
And even death will cling to this master
Whose stench brings nightmares to the blind
And the scream of the moon elect

Darkness will feed in their eyes
As scream becomes their song
Darkness will feed in their eyes
In the night they’re beyond the fatal

Darkness will feed in their eyes
As scream becomes their song
Darkness will feed in their eyes
In the night they're beyond the fatal

Hunger will call on the night
Tricking the gods
My breath, my eye, my air
Are yours, I'm formless now

Run, run with you dusk before it is ravaged
And torn from beneath you
Curse, this curse of the star
Feasting on mortals and tricking the gods

When the moon becomes a mass for the pentagram
The rage will swell as night grows bright
And it will search for those to brave
And master the art of bleeding out
This horrid fiend of the black would sever
The wings of angels and your soul

When hunger calls on the night
Your fatal flesh will be too torn for eyes

Darkness will feed in their eyes
As scream becomes their song
Darkness will feed in their eyes
In the night they’re beyond the fatal

Darkness will feed in their eyes
As scream becomes their song
Darkness will feed in their eyes
In the night they're beyond the fatal