Bruce Dickinson

The mark is on you now
The furnace sealed inside your head
Melting from the inside now
Waxy tears run down your face
The whore that never told her tale
Relives it every night with you
Far off stands the lamb and waits
For the wolf to come and end its life
Stand inside the temple
As the book of Thel is opening
The priestess stands before you
Offering her hand out, she's rising
Come the dawning of the dead
In famine and in war
Now the harlot womb of death
Spits out its rotten core
Serpent on the altar now
Has wrapped itself around your spine
So you look into its mouth
And you kiss the pearly fangs divine
Happy that your end is swift
The weeping virgin cries in bliss
The snake and priestess, they are one
The veil of flesh is ripped undone
Stand inside the temple
As the book of Thel is opening
The priestess stands before you
Offering her hand out, she's rising
Come the dawning of the dead
In famine and in war
Now the harlot womb of death
Spits out its rotten core
By the pricking of my thumbs
Something wicked this way comes
And when sleep takes you tonight
Will you wake to see the light...?