Fifty million miles below my feet,
There’s a lot of people,
I’d like to meet
There’s theives and killers,
Harlots and whores
All were misguided
But not any more…
So I see their fate,
In the black of the doom
Waves of fire in the storm,
Creatures howl at the moon,
They’re screaming intensly,
Their cries are heard for miles,
A prince resides their,
Lake of fool, burning wild