Lyrics: Funeral Mist. Maranatha. Blessed Curse.

Cursed shall be the fruit of thy body,
and cursed shall be the fruit of thy land,
Cursed shalt thou be when thou comest in,
and cursed shalt thou be when thou goest out.

And thou shall grope at noonday,
as the blind gropeth in darkness,
and thou shalt not prosper in thy ways:
and thou shalt be only oppressed and spoiled evermore,
and no man shall save thee.

The stranger that is within thee shall get up above thee very high;
and thou shalt come down very low,
he shalt be the head,
and thou shalt be the tail.

And thy heaven that is over
thy head shall be brass,
and the earth that is under thee shall be iron.
The LORD shall make the rain of thy land powder and dust:
from heaven shall it come down upon thee,
until thou be destroyed.

The LORD shall make the pestilence cleave unto thee,
until he have consumed thee from off the land,
whither thou goest to possess it.
The LORD shall smite thee with a consumption,
and with a fever, and with an inflammation,
and with an extreme burning,
and with the sword,
and with blasting,
and with mildew;
and they shall pursue thee until thou perish,
because thou wouldest not obey the voice of the LORD thy God.