In Sacrilege Death in June

[Verse: 1]
Solitude is not given It is arned
In this conspiracy of destiny
Empty vessels of spermless love
Made of Mud and Mist
I was Possessed

[Verse: 2]
We Develop
We Delight
We Define and
We Decay
From within
A sacred Power
Acting upon my Shame

[Verse: 3]
In Pursuit of the Impossible Nothingness
I found myself
In Sacrilege
Shall we die a Master-Slave
For this Dog Day Age?
Develop and Delight and Decay