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