Vanden Plas

Burning skies over Thyrrenian Sea
Death rains obsidian ashes
Dyeing the quarters of Rome
In a sanguine light
Incense playing with pestitentia
In the ancient gear of time
Hides a holy parasite
Conjuring seraphic wheelworks
Paint a reflection in my iris
And let me hear the sound of blood
Who are you sweet miracidium
Get off possessed premonition
Excise the thing
Like a nail out of my wound
Unsaintly inoculation