Sleeping in a the cradled low
were the demons play there shows
hidden in a black bag
layed across a fallen man
is were the world will find the beast
robed in the blood of a thousand reaps
you lison to his black song
and all you hear are the never ending throngs
of demon and creatures of hell and wrought
who bring with them the beasts talks
of death and doom and sorrows hews
hear the never ending fouls
who speak of the beast by name
Lucifer you demon of shame
were is it that you hide yourself,
yet then you hear him answer back
in the souls of those who lack
the will and want to live
and act like children of sad little pigs...
