off the sinister heavens I strip the arc of moonthe cosmic sickle starts the deicidial harvestI am the wheel of fortune that grinds your chestthe fruit of the storm and the kingdom belongs to methe time has come, your time, my fatherthis is my fateto raise my handagainst the silver templesthat is my fateto set up new orderthe castle of clouds shakesthis is my fateto get the swordand paint the mountains redthe crescent of moon ploughs his breastcry, cry all spirits, the old one is deaddrops of his blood whirling aroundchanging their colours, altering shapeshis purple juices transform into angelshosts of lust, Dionysiac triberegicide sword, bull-horned godbrother of all spirits,lead your troops, lead us to Earth,feed us with fleshfeed me with fleshteach me substancelightnings, thunders...he is not deadhe regains his strengthspears of royal cursebullets of royal wrathlightnings, thunders chase us... but we'll be back... some day |
