The cellar pa**age is connected To the instinctive fulcrum of the cross to eleven The lacks of breath chokes the act of praying And there's no way out from this cursed place Now I know what's the meaning of the words "To deserve Hell, eternal deserve" Anguish drive me crazy, empty and depress Unknown fear frighten me The one in hell doesn't speak, it's a deep prostration state, Where emptiness and anguish totally get the upper hand over everything God left this place too, because he renounced to pretend my soul The winged b**h of prostitution wants me to celebrate our marry When I asked to the medium what's the undead world, She enigmatically answered me, Telling about my future and my destiny, fear in my head, Ready to face the worst things All my worries and troubles were written In this page and recorded in this tape This place gives no space to pray your God, Because you're un-awared but possessed Fear and anguish flowing along these walls Are much bigger than the usual harmony of the soul I don't believe to all that poets, Preachers and Satanists who talk about hell They describe an estetic Romantic and decadent evil But evil is really not as they say