Narration:

Tired and submissive

Lying down on the black altar

She waits passive and anguished

A frost silence guides into the assembly

Priest Reflection:

Only my invocation resounds in the heads of the followers

Priest With The Crowd:

Glory to you Ounis

Praise be to Ounis

The Priest:

So her blood nay quench your thirst

So her meat may appease your hunger

For you, we'll eat the red crown

For you, we'll lick the green crown

Priest With The Crowd:

Glory to you Ounis

Praise be to Ounis

Narration:

The blade penetrates deeply in the young flesh

All together copulate with the bloody wounds

The Priest:

Here's the theater of our dreams

This is the beauty of absurdity

Priest With The Crowd:

Glory and praise be to Ounis