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As one rope loosens, another then tightens |
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far too long we've been strangled and tied |
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this sick circle of shame must now finally break |
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so that honour may again walk by our side |
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Roamers of the path of many paths |
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now the hour has come for us to act |
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with inhuman hatred and intensity |
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to ram down the monoliths of fallacy |
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At the mass grave of religions man's triumphant age begins |
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the heartblood of these tyrants will wash us clean of sin |
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we'll stand among the victors through this colossal war |
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the sight of moving mountains is what we are here for |
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The ethics and laws that we deeply abhor |
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have left mere rust and rot in their wake |
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so each such child of the holiest of lies |
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together with their fathers shall be slain |
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The storm of rebellion will never calm down |
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in the raging hearts of the truly devout |
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so hold not a moment more thy fury back |
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for swords are made to cut and daggers to stab |
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At the mass grave of religions man's triumphant age begins |
|
the heartblood of these tyrants will wash us clean of sin |
|
we'll stand among the victors through this colossal war |
|
the sight of moving mountains is what we are here for |
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Enthralling is the scent of burning shrines |
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and the sound of crumbling hierarchies |
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as after this disgraceful time |
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the true nature in us can once again breathe |
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May lips wet with blood to the world now proclaim: |
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at last the Beast if free and, verily, so shall remain! |
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In the chanting winds of this glorious black night |
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we hold the scalps of the crushed rulers high |
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without swaying a hammer or piling any stones |
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where once their towers stood we raise our own |
|
At the mass grave of religions man's triumphant age begins |
|
the heartblood of these tyrants will wash us clean of sin |
|
we'll stand among the victors through this colossal war |
|
the sight of moving mountains is what we are here for |