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Oh Mundus, O Lord
Thy body, thy throat
To our spirits return
Your heart is our curse

Oh Lorkhan, O Demon
Our bodies, our chains
What illusion is next
For us to escape

Tears of the red heart, whose spark has now fallen
A skyscape wounded by Manichaean divine
Asunder the ground, the impregnated flesh
By the measure of all things, so selfish and pure

A void is filled by new ideas
Cruel and intransigent, we're shown the travail
A fountain of fire shall birth from your seed
But in darkness retired, thy doom drum resounds

The One becomes Two
The Moan and the Silence
Existence is Sin
Truth is a Wraith
To be Guarded with Fear
The Sons of Sithis Sing

The One becomes Two
The Moan and the Silence
Existence is Sin
Truth is a Wraith
To be Guarded with Fear
The Sons of Sithis Sing

The One...

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