Invoke the dead
Which won't stay down
Their last fated cries
You now hear
The taste
Of Godflesh
Stays trickling
In your mouth
Harbor a soul
In your eclipsing
Shamed arms
Void of power
The taste
Of Godflesh
Stays trickling
In your mouth
Medusa's touch
Like that of Midas
Crumbles them all
The beloved gone
Stroke the damned
Stillbirth passings
You're a beacon
Of this power
The taste
Of Godflesh
Stays trickling
In your mouth
Invoke the dead
Which won't get up
The last they've touched
Was your hand
