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Curse Upon A Prayer
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Divinus Mortis
Blood has been shed for the lowly
And slowly we drift in our death
Now when tides of life have turned
The darkest of chaos, hear my words
Pallor Mortis
Come, you White Ghost!
Algor Mortis
Draw down the sun!
His filthy seed of disease
Spread on the young and the weak
Blind their eyes so they don't see
That even their god will bleed
Spread the word of peace
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To those with bloody hands
And speak of holiness of life
When it's you who holds the knife
Rigor Mortis
Strike the nails deep!
Livor Mortis
Their god will weep!
His filthy seed of disease
Spread on the young and the weak
Blind your eyes so you don't see
Your holy god on his knees
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