In the whispers of Revelation's night,
A beast rises in the failing light.
Marked by shadows, marked by flame,
On every hand, a whispered name.

Mark of the beast on the hand or the brow,
No peace for the marked, no time like now.
With the number of a man, 666,
In the depths of the dark, a twisted fix.

From the greatest king to the poorest soul,
The mark compels, the mark controls.
Neither rich nor poor can flee the sign,
Bound to buy, in a line divine.

This calls for wisdom, calls for sight,
To understand the beast in the night.
Calculate the number, know the score,
For it's the key to a locked door.

Mark of the beast on the hand or the brow,
No peace for the marked, no time like now.
With the number of a man, 666,
In the depths of the dark, a twisted fix.

So heed the call, let wisdom rise,
See through the beast's dark disguise.
Stand firm, stand brave, you who can,
Resist the mark, defy the plan."