Buried Alive
Bring the black box to the altar
Now raise your hands and do the sign
Oh hail Satan, yes hail Satan
Lay down your swords, the evil star
It's a black funeral
She was a victim of my coven
Open the black box on the altar
Her blood is still hot, so let it out
Oh hail Satan, yes hail Satan
Now drink it, drink, drink, forget that whore
It's a black funeral
She was the victim of my coven
The Street Giveth And The Street Taketh Away
300 years has passed
time is ripe for return
back to the holy lands
where our souls yearn
across the barren waste
through the mists of space
from sun to sun
who will win the race
We are bred for war
heed the crusader call
to claim the sacred prize
the cradle of us all
Like a sword we cut
through occupied lands
bringing justice and order
to a lesser race
we shall conquer you all
and rule with an iron hand
And then came the day
of cursed Tukayiid
where seven was gathered
against a greater white
only one met success
time is ripe for return
back to the holy lands
where our souls yearn
across the barren waste
through the mists of space
from sun to sun
who will win the race
We are bred for war
heed the crusader call
to claim the sacred prize
the cradle of us all
Like a sword we cut
through occupied lands
bringing justice and order
to a lesser race
we shall conquer you all
and rule with an iron hand
And then came the day
of cursed Tukayiid
where seven was gathered
against a greater white
only one met success