Narration:
Tired and submissive
Lying down on the black altar
She waits passive and anguished
A frost silence guides into the assembly
Priest Reflection:
Only my invocation resounds in the heads of the followers
Priest With The Crowd:
Glory to you Ounis
Praise be to Ounis
The Priest:
So her blood nay quench your thirst
So her meat may appease your hunger
For you, we'll eat the red crown
For you, we'll lick the green crown
Priest With The Crowd:
Glory to you Ounis
Praise be to Ounis
Narration:
The blade penetrates deeply in the young flesh
All together copulate with the bloody wounds
The Priest:
Here's the theater of our dreams
This is the beauty of absurdity
Priest With The Crowd:
Glory and praise be to Ounis
