Веном

The scent of Zenith clogs the midnight air
You look around to see yourself and stare
Hot knives you know you're not alone
The thunder burst your mind and cracks your bones

This is our hell and that's the way we live
Your eyes tranfixed by a deadly riff
There ain't no door way to Satan's mind
He takes your soul and leaves your shells behind

The sings of man dictate eternity
We are the sons of Satan-we the three
The final gift of hades is Satan band and now the future lis in his beloved hands