Broken hearts and shattered dreams cascade into a forgotten darkness.
Falling till their they reach the end of time,
all happened to be mine.
My soul now damned, forever to drink the angels blood as my wine.
Beckoned under the borderline, onto a infant the demons dine.
Wade through the River Stick`s with a paddle made from a virgin`s stolen spine.
The main station of hell, a wicked design.
Dead bodies hanged by a thorned vine.
How many cursed souls in each flame, I count a million to nine.
With the reversed pentagram as my sign.
As my bones crumble from inside,
a gloomy job I did find.
All of your suffering I inflict, each tear that falls I do lick.
The death`s and tragedies for this year I have picked,
for I am the guide of the River Stick`s.
