Black Trip - Tvar Dabla

In the mist of the valley of unrest
A mystic circus is about to begin
Outside the marquee stands the people in a row
They're all agog for this notorious show

The show begins with a lady on a horse
She wears a fur and a wine red dress
Then through the curtain comes the conferencier
He greets the crowd and then he says...

This is the night of the living dead
You're staring in to the end ahead They are ghouls and their king is the one
He shows his face in all chaos upon

Now in the marquee there's an arcane atmosphere
When on the stage the old one suddenly appear
And the crowd sits like fooled pathetic sticks
As the master pulls his conjuring tricks

Thy soul shall find itself alone
Mid-dark thoughts of the grey tombstone
Not one of all the crowd to pry
Into thine hour of sacrifice