Mind Disease - Ritual

Black hearse sits silently outside

And waits for your demise

No one sees the difference

Half dead or half alive

A lone voice alone in your grave

Behold, their final warning

Walk again, your heaven, your hell

Your sterile remains in mourning

Disease

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

Walk to decay

Sit back and stare, your last light of life

As it fades away

Above, the black cap of forever damnation

Below, the earth waits for you

Lift off the shroud

See yourself, see

You’ve got nothing but hate for you

Disease

Disease