Tekster:
Brodequin Instruments Of Torture

I put the bodies in their places, Place expressions Expressions on their faces A headless torso lying naked amongst the piles of flesh so sacred. Conducting

A ritualistic sacrifice set up to pass judgement on the chosen ones a covenant Blessed with blood priests set with knives in hand anxious believers look

Hidden within pulsating under the skin shift and turn rotten body infested with worms. Victims of a roadside murder buried where they fell no one near

Suspended sweat and blood fills the eyes of inquisitor mocks all answers Hoisted up the pulley cables tighten asked again suddenly dropped shoulders

The blessed virgin opens her arms to thee on her bosom Thy hardened heart will be melted there Thou wilt confess, heresy, Blaspheming the saintsand gilded