Texty: Cauldron Born. Born Of The Cauldron. Unholy Sanctuary.

Run, hide in the old church you'll be safe
These words from a priest who's lost his faith
In the face of seeing the dead walk again
Outside the rain is beating down
As they thrust up from the ground
The seek the sustenance they need to bring
to fruition the seeds sewn within

Inside these walls of stone and antiquity
We seek refuge in this holy sanctuary
Disease of immortality awaits as the night closes in

Dreams that seen unreal, a story from centuries ago cast up before my eyes
Winged daemons, harpies led the way as the armies of the impaler
rode to the city to drink the life's blood and enslave all within
Eternally

Inside these walls of stone and antiquity
We seek refuge in this holy sanctuary
Disease of immortality awaits in the night
They rode into the village upon fanged steeds
The villagers were sewn with the vampire seeds
The were buried undead all in the same place
A church was built to imprison them it seemed forever

The cross avails us not, there's something unholy about this sacred lot
Ghosts from the past rise up to toast the dusk of the living dead
The walls are closing in
Glassy eyed we join in the song of the living dead