This is the way we go to Mass
We wake the dead while the rest are asleep
We light the candles of virgin tallow
We draw the pentagram in lambs blood
Dagger in hand
You crucifix has made its last stand
Make the rite of the black Sabbath
We’ll boil your water into steam
Sip Satan’s tea and then we will scream
Oh, what a joy it is. . .
To see it all turn black
The final spell has been cast
You sold your soul, there’s no turning back
Of all nights, none is more black
The sentinel, he stands so tall
The witch’s brew, it has a foul smell
We roll the dice, triple six
With two dice, what a neat trick
His pitchfork has pierced the Host
You’ll be the next to turn into toast
Come forth and feel Lucifer’s prick
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