The Final Procession

Towards the black mass of an ancient galaxy
A funeral procession rides through realms of insanity
Aeons pass them, in slow implosion
Never to come back from the edge of reality
Down the spiral roads the malignant priest is on his way

Deceiving visions seduced their weary minds
To leave the world behind, but they could not be fooled
No crooked preacher could halt their heathen deeds
No abject graveyard could keep their souls asleep
Blessed by the deuce, their minds would never repose

An ancient omen once foretold that the evil will return
And all the sacred churches and temples will forever burn
An ancient omen once foretold that the evil will enrol
Once the wicked souls of the undead is buried in a black hole

Six lightyears under, the ritual has begun
Earth’s final spin around the celestial pole is done
Infernal fire, hotter than a thousand suns
Devours our mother earth, now they have won
Where right was wrong, a new black hole now is born