above descent
but Im still within sin
the lowest riff
between Hell and heaven
as I tract along the path
I follow a crack
never looking back
for theres nothing to grasp
but as I walk forth
the crack leads to an iron door
with a cross on the floor
and an angel more pure
than this angel of demure
so he inscribed upon my head
the fifty steps to my success
and when every inch was red
he continued down my neck
until the names of every death
I oversaw had paid respects
down my back and arms and chest
then the angel said
"Go and do your best
to make your soul fresh
it will truly be a test"
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