Tricking the Gods - Arsis

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