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Blackest of black, darkest of dark.

His heart grows colder and colder.

The warmth of flesh, the cracking of bones.

This brings him great satisfaction.

Darkened clouds, descend upon.

His retched soul.

Annihilate, decimate.

It's the thrill of the hunt.

What is blood, if not for spilling?

Blackest of black, darkest of dark.

His heart grows colder and colder.

The warmth of flesh, the cracking of bones.

This brings him great satisfaction.

Darkened clouds, descend upon.

His retched soul.

Annihilate, decimate.

It's the thrill of the hunt.

What is blood, if not for spilling?

Kill, crush, destroy

Your death will be legendary.

Your anguish will be whispered upon their lips.

Their fear will feed his soul.

Even in death, his name will live on.

Blackest of black, darkest of dark.

His heart grows colder and colder.

The warmth of flesh, the cracking of bones.

This brings him great satisfaction.

Darkened clouds, descend upon.

His retched soul.

Annihilate, decimate.

It's the thrill of the hunt.

What is blood, if not for spilling?

I'll eat their little hearts.