The young girl sits on her bed, Her soul knowing fills with dread,
Her soul gasps, her body clenches and into her flows the undead.
As she is taken it begins, out of her mouth the Blasphemy is flying,
Her mother and priests sit there praying, frightened and crying
She flings her arms and legs and turned her head,
She looks at the preist but she sees me instead,
She wails, Master! Master! I am Yours, You see!
Take me with You to Your Fiery Sea!
I stand there innate and laughing and grinning,
Spreading my wings and say, Those are mine, the one's that keep sinning
Her body writed and twisted she keeps screeching,
The priest at loss, begins beseeching
The war was lost but the battle was won, her soul from her body went missing,
My demons and the girl, groping and kissing
Into my arms the little girl ran,
I am Satan and I am making my stand,
God, my Nemesis,You may have won the heavens in the beginning
Golden trumpets blowing and the angels singing
But I alone hold this world in my Cage
You will still have to meet my rage!
