In the Belt of Orion lays a jewel of great worth. In the mouth of a lion was the place of his birth. Will this lifeform possess us; make us walk to our graves? Beams of light project His image. And if I ever find him, he'll probably turn his head in shame. And if he ever finds me, he'll probably never learn my name. Clouds of smoke create his figure. You watch and you wait in darkness. Three breathers of air are harmless. You watch and you wait and all you do is breathe. Now the time is here; the moment's come to speak your words. You see his foot move forward, a smile cracks, your face it burns. And when the spirit takes form, flesh and blood bone and salt, will the circle be torn, made pedestal from a vault? From the brightest of sunshine to the darkest of shade, Beelzebub move my hand, guide the actions I make. Dream walker take your form. Guide the actions I make.