A chapel, the purest of white Filled with candles burning so bright Dark symbols on the wall I do not understand Ghostlike figures standing in a circle Chanting ancient rhymes
I see the Abbott appearing Wearing a habit so white it hurts my eyes Raising his hands from behind the misty altar He starts his prayer Speaking in the strangest tongues I do not understand
Someone is laying on the altar Arms and legs bound I do not understand Ara Deus Sanguis The ritual has started
A big knife in the hands of the Abbott Blood is dropping into a chalice As the wall behind the altar starts to glow I do not understand Ara Deus Sanguis It needs to be fed
