All aboard, this ship bound for wreckage
Sail ho, fuckers!

Who could foresee that this state of
Mind was forever?
That we would never wake up from
Our nightmares?

That the black poison dripped onto
Our skin would burn us
That the clean streams of time wouldn't

Black cityscape
Towering
Stone fangs tearing at the sky
Putrid tears fall

Black horrorscape
Ghosts line these avenues

These streets are trenches
Ugly are these scars
And filled with rats they are
Filled with rats they are!

There are choirs, a ghost v

"Conquest, love and self perserverance - the gospel of apitude"
Music and Lyrics by Tomas Pettersson / Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio

Salvage is close at hand Whispers an idle man,
patiently waiting salvation to come
Aptitude yet unsung gushing of devildom,
factual salvage but li