Eventide rise for ritual With the thrill of a kill vengefully the engine will Roar forth steer the dead leave forced Driven by fear shift gears veer towards The foolishly equipped swift these Failed bids breathed taillights from the crypt Reflect upon the way beyond redemption Let the necronometer beckon for the destined Blessed when first lent sin then condemned to bear the burden Of this curse the consequence of which can never be averted Each tormented attempt that is made in vain To evade this debt which is certain to be paid Without question is met with a counterclocked surge In reverse as if backmasked words of the black mass were All heard by a clutch engaged Over trails blazed to the western gates Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side Something diabolical Idle hands are bound for the Damned once sam went down to georgia Speed was forged of the divine salt Mined from the vaults of flame by the lost Named as those sought as faults rests beneath The wrong that was spawned from the tired screech Of essence halted engulfed in the scent of exhaustion A false witness with the sensed end is brought To bended knees when abandoned belief in The mephistophelian plea for wicked unleashed sends Heed to reap grim an infernally decreed Reposession vested in the fallen creed called on to retrieve Meed with the fueled intention of deprived intervention The thundered calm that comes from the rattle of descension Numbs the panicked from a havoc that reeks of oil Barreling down this mortal coil Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be on empty yet the devil rides Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side Something diabolical Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him To him To him To him