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When the bell tolls then we bring out our dead ones in hope
Burn the sick sheets
These times of the pall, we float in the midst of its presence
Drift in circles
We walk through the clouds that corrode our skin, lay our bones before the
Silent hunter
It waits for the cold and the weak to succumb and our fears to vapor
Drink and breathe in…

A horned beast walks through these streets in shade of streetlights
Its footsteps sound through the fog that lingers tonight
A shrill scream rings out into your fevered visions
The blood needs salt to flow along through its mortal prison

The coiled knees and cloven hooves are poised to crush the sickened
And twelve eyes look on and stare into the cloudy distance
It sees you and it knows you feel its stinking presence
Pulled down into the dirt before your last confession

Shadows through the mist, they dance in clouded mirrors
Raise the cup and drink, delay these psychic shivers
The fear of the outside, it cuts with blades and needles
One more hour to hide, before the final leaving time

Before I face the demon
My soul it drifts away
Through a fog of sins and a past despised,
In the burning smoke of ages
With cold dead weight of words unsaid
And the bitter taste of ashes
Sits on the heart like city snow,
I stand and watch the sun go down

Oh where did it go wrong for me?
Now the judgement bell is tolling
Such a paltry faith in prophecy
When you see the heads are rolling…

Haunters of my past lives
Stalkers in the mind’s eye
Watchers of the end times
Gathered on the cliff side
Shroud of fog fills my mind
When the final bell chimes
Spirits of the dead cry,
“Come and take the last ride.”

Come and take the last ride.

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