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Black clouded steam
from a boiling machine
fueled by the power of hell

an electric device
that will be your demise
once its program has come to an end

Its cogs are turning fast as hell
oozing well-oiled torture smell
liquid death coursing through
soon to rip your soul in two

moving from chamber to chamber with speed
another cup is all I need
seeping water through the funnel
soon to reach a scorched flesh tunnel

Spraying your face
with hot coffee rays
melts your skin,
taking pain to a new level

Black napalm brew
for the chosen few
sworn against god
in league with the devil

in league with the devil

Crushing the weak
no drink for the meek
made from beans
grown in black light

Bringing life to the dead
and it's rightly said
the sacred fuel
for a nation of sleepers

(repeat chorus)

Mocca Master
Infernal disaster
A machine of terror and death
Steam on your skin
The torture begins
Black hot fluid
will quench your last breath!

Resistance
is a vain ambition
as a swarm of feral claws

are opening your mouth
for the communion of hell

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