And every year raineth down the celebratory tearsA celebration of the yearsfrom mere mortal skyAnd ye of years ... bells will chime!When the heavens open upand drink from the silver cupThe creature thus be born!And blow the magic horn!To alert the spirit deep within the cycle of life.The creature has begun it's journey deep forlorn,upon this day which he be formedIn the sea of mucus the spirit rides down from the mountainand unites with the creature in the wombA holy union, dark mortality, until the dark mortalitybreaks the chain of lifeThe creature thus be born