Spies, thieves and assassins, all those of I’ll repute
May the darkened hours that Shepherds the dawn
Be filled with the sweet howls of screaming
Our blades bleed many a purse of it’s heavy burden
Should we meet resistance?
A life cast asunder is to death another soul instead of ours
Us wretched mortals merely aiding to fill his quota
As the streets run red with crimson blood and cheap poison
And should the angels in heaven be listening
Let it be known that if they venture too far from sacred protection
I would steal their wings and turn beautiful choirs to abject torture
And for their pure light halos I will fetch a pretty penny
To pay the devils bill and buy back some semblance of redemption
Unless I use my ill gotten gains to secure the pleasant company
That is forwardly offered by ladies that inhabit the sinful night
A night indeed as former angels sell their mortal form for numbing poisons
For us poor born mortals it is the closest we will get to heavenly pleasure
And if that means a place in hell?
Living this life that I have readily ruined with casual disregard
A wasted existence compared to those I callously murder
I’m already use to what is awaiting my immortal soul
So I may as well shortcut the deal and sign a pact with the devil!