Silhouette démoniaque se dressant tandis que des trompettes hurlent du rock’n’roll
Prompt
666 is no longer alone,
He's getting out the marrow in your back bone,
And the seven trumpets blowing sweet rock and roll,
Gonna blow right down inside your soul.
Pythagoras with the looking glass reflects the full moon,
In blood, he's writing the lyrics of a brand new tune
