From ancient sands where echoes call, A shadow rises, fierce and tall. With crimson eyes and hands of flame, He carves his path, he speaks your name. A storm of sound, a pulse so deep, A trance-born force you cannot keep. Lightning cracks, the bass ignites, A journey lost in neon nights. Through time and space, the echoes blend, The Jackal God will not pretend. Surrender now, embrace the sound, For in his grip, you're trance-bound.