Every Christian cross you find, you shall turn The pleasures of the flesh will not deny Her sweet voice of great lust Summons me into my ear with unholy impatience Sweet Whispers With blood we praise his epic acts of lust Accomplishing every desire of pleasure and desecration With the ignorance from your cross as the witness To those suffering from their own satisfaction Sweet Whispers The perfect way of life devoured by doubt Embrace it as your own let the seed sprout Trying to rip the veil bastard sons and daughters In this game without rules, mercy or compassion Be your own creation Oh beauty in the darkness you kept feeding me As I behold the flesh profane and sweet We are gods in formation