Dead in the Dirt - Bastards Of The Bleak lyrics

Our cult our rite This last light dies From the desolate black Flies to the cross... a knife in his back In this ceremony of towering flames ba*tards of the bleak, exsanguinate the weak Carve your name and haunt their mind Forever ingrained in every memory With hands clasped, we encircle To worship the darkness, we create Spill their blood, collapse their faith A reflection of your undying hate