The Accursing Tongues
Channel your thoughts into me, black dooms
As sleep and his half-brother death
Remain silent
Lie in wait or slumber
Erase his line
Sterile his daughters

Man in death is never alone
Spirits of the unborn
Follow him
One death
Equals thousands
Let this feed your never-ending hunger
For lives

Black dooms
Baleful spirits
Weight his fate
The accursing tongues

We'll erase his line
Leave his daughters
Infertile
Just suck the darkness
Out of us