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| Num Skull Ritually Abuse Friday's Child The night was dark/moon was full/fog was thick/the air was cool The sense was set without regret, all that come shall not forget They gathered here and all did follow To greet the child of no tomorrow To see the speed of life and death To feel the strength of Satan's breath It happens every hundred years When mortals choose their strengh in fear They'll sacrifice a newborn child Bred to die all the while Friday's child will die at birth, a test of faith to prove their worth They conjure Satan to bring him higher The infant screams while bathing in fire The Mass of Hoods that make the crows close to Death Chants get loud.... The Witch is cast into labor.... She pleads but nothing can save her Sound of birth - hear it cry Soaked in blood - ready to die Altar of Fire burning hot This is Hell, heaven is naugh Feel the fire, hear the call The sickness of Satan fills them all Watch the saviour take his final fall! |
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