The wails of Banshees echo across the land
Overshadowed by the screams of the victims trying to understand
"Why is this happening to us? Why are the skies turning purple?"
All becomes answered, when Slaanesh's daemons encircle
With the Emperor's Children leading them, and the Noise Marines not far behind
Slaanesh's daemons come, there will be a feast tonight
You better pray they make it quick, and that you die soon
Otherwise your wails will echo a thousand miles
As they take turns raping you in the shade of the purple moon
Tentacles and spikes will penetrate your skin
As you cry "Please, please, no more!"
Your screams and wails only please Slaanesh, oh what a carnival of sin
And after they get bored of you, they'll drop you dead
For the daemons to use your corpse, that's how they get fed