O, they are always there Waiting, knowing they'll become O, for as long as I'm here I can not escape - I don't even try to Staring at me from inside and smiling with me at the gaze around As they are the hell of my soul they also give me will of strife for any kind of goal They are the whores of my mind, mirrorshades, reflections of the dark of Assiah Filthy, yet tempting - I must summon them again so that they can spawn the daemons that I seek O, they are always there Waiting, knowing they'll become O, for as long as I'm here I can not escape - I don't even try to Taste the fear, numb in anguish Go high with the nightmare, so close to die With eleven broken bowls I fill up the well, as I invite the succubus to feed upon my soul For a moment I'm drained - a kliffothic shell, I've payed visit to hell Like Ishtar in the realm of Ereshkigal I will rise out of death as the sun of tomorrow Taste the fear, numb in anguish Go high with the nightmare, so close to die I am the god of my work, the work that depicts its maker In the anguish of creating I learn to know every face of Ge-hinnom