The Magnet Soul Songtext
von Insision

[Pretext:
I exit the void. Disconnect life. Expel the thick bile, the healing has been done, I′ve stepped outside.
Exitus Spiritus.
Luciferius et tu domunis I am the new law. Now be drawn to me... Ikon]

Let the chanting begin
I call forth those in slumber
I call for retaliation
From interest, a pure passion
A deranged confession
You bow so perfectly in joy
Be drawn to the magnet soul
The mutter is for you, my lord
They bow to set you free - free at last!


What were those words again
Your suffering has got eyes
(I'm) Caught up in the twirl, lord Satan
Cutting myself on the shattered glass
And so the chanting returns
And now you bow for the magnet soul
And so the chanting returns
It is bound to set you free
I ran from the trapped, I killed that world
The confessor, I smashed your face in!

Who are you in the reflection, I do not recognise
Old man and his burden kept
Killed from birth, a soul in dept
The mutter is for you my lord
I bow to set you free
checked out so many times
but I never left
We call those in slumber now
Give praise to the lord
Satan, father
We bow to set you free, this world is yours!

Now bow down!
For the magnet soul
You bow down for the IKON

I exude the host, I spit you out
False face, are you righteous?


Blessed be those of you with clear and open eyes
Scorned angel of the light, Lucifer
They bow for you, my lord
Their minds will set you... free
Luciferius et tu Dominus
This world is yours!

... and so the chanting returns
Now bow down for the Icon
And so the chanting returns
Rise to power!

I K O N

I K O N

I K O N

[Ante-text [sic]: ...
and crush the immaculate conception. Mortal man, blood and bones and even God can die!
Watch your saviour disappear, as ′It' transcend into society.
The conception of Satan as a norm, murdering your Gods.
Wonderful rebellion in a land of lambs. Your old beliefs morally corrupt.
You have created your own true hell. Satan excluded.
Trapped with no return, and I am not privileged to join.
You of the self enthroned lie of the 'holy′... here and now is your day of Torment!
Glory, glory!
Prisa Djavuten!]