Phantoms Of Mortem Tales

Old Man's Child

A burning lust for pleasure less desire

A needless urge to kill

Fearful thoughts, a strength we admire

With hate that their minds are fulfilled



Like tyrants, living life in wrath

Like wizards, vanishing into the dark:

As black divine gods



Born under crimson rain

Taking lives in seductive ways

Putrefy the human skin

Feeding the demons within



Nailed to the heavenly cross

You will die with the taste of dust

Praise your demonic saviour

Erase your memories of god



Like wolves, howling to the night

Like beasts, living beyond the light:

As black divine gods