Crimson Sanctorum

Control! A delusion which gives hope to man
Power! A mask for pride and greed and envy
Control… the ultimate delusion, inevitable be thy fate!
Power… never reaching conclusion, lands have been laid to waste!
Existence… without purpose… the greatest defiance of morality.

Embrace the tempting of this flesh
A virus, a plague… in bodies will bathe.

Dreams of never ending lycantrophic visions
Jewels are now searing through septic flesh
Clandestine ways of the plague that's at rest
Scarlet visions… crimson sanctorum
Fugitive elements of an explored mysticism
Beyond what lays beneath swell human skin
Seek the soul, inspect it, tempt it, instruct it
Its cultivation… his duty… it must be monstrous.

He who makes a beast of himself…
Rids himself of the burdens of being a man...
Beasts of burden… crawling on your knees in the circle of life.

He who makes a beast of himself…
Rids himself of the pains of being a man…
Beasts of burden… spinning through the cycle of death.

Be rid of thy need for morality…
...its humility will only be perceived in their deaths
Instincts of abnormal and perverted lusts…
...for rules are man's despair.

He who makes a beast of himself…
Rids himself of the burdens of being a man...
Beasts of burden…