A pentagram, a five point star, inverse proportions, hollow circle.
Snap your mind into confusion, your delusion, self control.
Salted earth and burning candles, read the books, but you don't know.
The number nine is your new handle, grip the earth don't let it go.
May this wake carnal desire, burn a hole right through your soul,
your mind is fleeting, days retreating, birth the knowledge you let go.
And days are empty, time is worthless, war destroys, you broke the wall,
ethereal, my battleground, my holy war, where sinners go.
Witches hammer.
Crusaders scripted fear.
Malleus Maleficarum.
That name we dread to hear.
We'll whisper secrets in your ear, for minor trinkets, you provide.
Taste this madness, human creature, rage will keep you warm inside.
The Lemegeton knows the truth, Astarte's temple knows my kind,
in Pasadena, California, evocations sure to find.
Witches hammer.
Crusaders scripted fear.
Malleus Maleficarum.
That name we dread to hear.
Witches hammer.
Crusaders scripted fear.
Malleus Maleficarum.
That name we dread to hear.
Witches hammer.
Crusaders scripted fear.
Malleus Maleficarum.
That name we dread to hear.
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