Gravewomb
Endless and bitter-sweet are the fruits of death
Our eternal mother of all macabre and archetypes
In human remains are the powers that bestow upon us
Cindered ash and cinnabar bones

Cause we are the children of the underworld
We behold this gift of yours

When angel of death blew his trumpet
She descended before us on her chariot of cindered ash
Enlightment befell upon us
And our flesh found the rest in the womb of darkness

Gravewomb, this gift of yours

In her many reviled names we honor the path that awaits us
'Cause this is the path of the dead paved with bones and blood
We behold this gift of yours, feed us on your venomous bosom
And reveal the eternal kingdom of the grave