In the Mist, In the Briar,
Deep inside the heart of a blackened liar;
Cold as stone, an icy Crier,
Hides the soul of Evil Entire.
In the Mist, In the Briar,
Permanent pain that never tires;
Dreariness flares as a Living Dire,
Here you are the King, the Master, and the Sire.
In the Mist, In the Briar,
Penniless, you are in need, without a Buyer;
Purgatory, begging the Lord upon Higher,
"Good Night", so says the Eternal Fire.
