Fureur du sort Malheureux

A shining star cometh
Leaving behind smoke
That suffocates not
In the vacuum of space.
It is a son of a Father God
Who has spite for me
As I have seen His face
And was not struck down.
"Fall my son, whose name is as mine,
And crush the fool so I may exhume him
So to scatter what I have left of him..."


A fist full of led smashed down as a holy bomb
Sent from our Lords right hand
Carved in the earth a name of Beelzebub
Scorching those who saw it fall.
He cursed me with a serpent tongue
So none would ever believe.
My brothers, the angels,
Chained me under the sea
Everything I had died away
And was crushed in their gnashing teeth.
So I opened the sky with my spite when released
And spat in the face of their Gold heathen God.

Ba'al Zebub!
Lord of the flies!
Eating my eyes!
Eating my eyes!

War will silence the God.

I rose up, unwilling to go down in a whisper
And took in a breath to release out the anger
But He whom devours the corpses of demons
Spat out acid on my tongue.
War has silenced the thoughts I did have
And replaced them with offspring, it's maggots.
They chew 'til they spew out my mouth and reprise
I vomit my sin but don't die.

He soon devours me slow!
Ba'al Zebub!

Spat on my tongue so I couldn't speak!
Eating my eyes! Eating my eyes!
We will soon die! Under His might!
Heathens had me crucified.