Prophet of Disease

Since the dawn of man and beast I have waited for my pray
To ascend in all my glory from a crying sky of grey

The fruit of eden is rotten
The rivers run no more
The birds have turned to stone
You will be blessed with fever

Joyously I bathe in repulsion, contaminate the blood of man
From my fetid throne of malice of humanity I spit
I swallow all forms of light and dance with the newborn dead
The night will be so dark that you cannot see beyond it

I will spread my wings
Send man into the void
The sweet tears of Christ
Will be the wine of man

I wear my crown of worms and rejoice in sin and death
Mock the gaping wounds of Christ - I won't bow to thee
A thousand rats shall gnaw your bones - As you lie asleep
A thousand flies shall cover you flesh, Lachryma Christi

On a cross he was hung, that sordid son
The wounds in his side I licked with glee
A carpenter or a messenger from God
Nailed like a fool to a piece of tree
Life will perish under a bloody red moon
Death will come on a decayed breeze
Cries will shatter the deadlocked tombs
And all you harvest shall be disease

Betrayal, famine and terror

Life will perish under a bloody red moon
Death will come on a decayed breeze
Cries will shatter the deadlocked tombs
And all you harvest shall be disease

Stillbirth, slaughter, havoc and death