Neon Ruins!

[I] Concrete arteries, the city bleeds light, Sanctified basslines echo through the endless night, Velvet tabernacles and broken dreams collide, Neon saints where the lost ones hide. Incense and sweat, a baptism in sound, Underground sovereigns where chaos is crowned, From gutter to spire, we claw and we scream— Americas nightlife: a beautiful affliction. (Go!)
[1] Gilded portals swing to a sacred beat, Vespers of the underground, sanctified heat. Leather and lace vestments, a ritual in stride, Where the disciples of the night no longer hide. Incense of the city, smoke in the air, Apostles of the scene, with a gothic flare. Bass-liturgy thumping through the consecrated floor, The temple is open, step through the door. (Rave!)
[C] Silenced floors where spirits used to rise, No more tribes, just fractured screens. (Graver!) Disconnected in curated visions. Where did we go? Buried beneath the neon, our litany remains, A ghost in the circuitry, bound by electronic chains. We built a shrine in the undergrounds flame— Now it’s all just usury and a brand name. (Graver!)
[2] Techno-psalms rising, a digital prayer, Neon chrism in the electric air. Warehouse cathedrals, a covenant of sound, Ecstatic feet on hallowed ground. Cyber-acolytes in a trance-like state, Communion of the masses, sealing our fate. Provident rhythms, the pulse of the ravers soul, In this sanctuary, we lose all control. (Grave!)
[C] Silenced floors where spirits used to rise, No more tribes, just fractured screens. (Graver!) Disconnected in curated visions. Where did we go? Buried beneath the neon, our litany remains, A ghost in the circuitry, bound by electronic chains. We built a shrine in the undergrounds flame— Now it’s all just usury and a brand name. (Graver!)
[B] Across the ocean, they still believe, In the shadows where the lost ones can breathe. No judgment, no walls, no hollow disguise, Just ritual, truth, and open skies. While our constellations choke on their own decay, The flock dances the night away— We sold our soul for a profane thrill, They kept it pure, they kept it real. (Rave!)
[3] VIP cloisters, the velvet lie, Flashbulb haloes in a dead man’s eye. Libation service, the price of soul, Digital apparitions replace the whole. A solitary monk in the ruins of the bass, seeking the ghost of a hallowed face.Search in shadows, the last metalhead, A dying pulse of what used to be graceful, Security tight, but spirit’s gone— The night we consecrated is overrun. (Graver!)
[O] The benediction fades into the grey of the dawn, The congregation scatters, the high priest is gone. We leave our offerings of sweat on the stone, To face the profane in the world on our own. Ashes to ashes, dust to the floor, and Lock the temple door. - The shrine is silent. The foundation is laid where the bass used to thrum, Waiting for the resurrection yet to come. 

Fast High Energy 160 BPM/ Goth Style - Electric Body Music, Industrial Metal, Industrial Pop, male.