It's not all happiness and lullabies

Hold a torch to the sky's night,
In the vague hope, it might shine bright,
Bound to satan's heart, not an impeccable start,
Cursed skies thunder, hide with no blunder,
Deep in the realm of this mid night mayhem,
Angels cry and demons condem them,


Forged in the heat of the evil empire,
Devils, portals and broken church spires,
leading the holy choir into hell's quagmire,
Death perspires, with the stench of evil pismire,
I've become the evil death inside of me,
A terminal lobotomy, of never ending blasphemy,


The twelve apostles frozen like nothingness,
God's undercover agents, stoned in unholiness,
Overrun battered, life's been flattered,
Orders now anarchy, the streets are all panicky,
Murdered severed souls of the dead men rise,
while to the devil that no suprise,


I'm just a ghosts in the cathedral,
Seeing no hope, just dead people,