Wooden Dwellings

From the depths, from the blackness
Of the hatred eveholes
Bestial feeling has sliped out
This is the crippling angel of barreness
Trails the decrepit corpse
Of the priest, on his hook.
And through the broken sun
In the Hellish chariot,
Come out the clutches of
The soulfreezer

The hook was suspended
In the dungeon of death
The bolt of the timestream was locked,
Angel became the stone...
...The knife-switch of soulfreezer arised

And the sawdust of the bones
Fills the air
With swet on my face
I work up the cracked sholderblade
Unlimited amount of holy priests.

Oh, how many of them
Are expecting their own turn
Laing right in the wooden suits.