Obsequium Funeris
Vrolok
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Encompassing shell
We pretend to destroy what our eyes cannot see
Joyful, sweet Hell
Funeral rites for the procession of man
Thrice strikes four the bell
We pretend to cloak ourselves from within
Wish them well
Their time surges onward into the ground
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Radiant, beautiful death!
Absorb! Absorb what the carrion holds as true!
Nothing remains on this world torn asunder
Extract your revenge for all is lost
The eye, the seer, the tree, the believer
Tokens of value from the great Deceiver
Stored away for a darker day
We keep inside our secret things
Funeral rites for the procession of man
Abandon your dreams for all is lost