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Watch out for this one,
a filthy cross hangs on it's door.
A sinner in saints form,
a crafty poser, born with a cause.

Feeling thirsty? One drink harms none.
That's what it said, but now you're speaking in tongues.
That silver lining fades off real slow.
But when it's gone, you're bewitched no more.

On a throne it sits, built by pain and bliss.
From a chalice full of virgins piss, he sips, Incubus, a demon trip.

Watch out for it,
It's tricks make you sin for a fix.
Incubus, what a demon trip, on it's throne till the end it sits.

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