| Praise hail Satan | |
| Our wrath is about to be unleashed | |
| Upon you - oh lord of goodness | |
| For so long we have waited and believe us | |
| The future will be a vast black memory on your grave | |
| Behold | |
| From our synagogue of Satan | |
| We say to you | |
| Black metal warriors of northern lands | |
| Lift your swords up high | |
| Let us praise | |
| The horned one | |
| The lord of the sulphur souls | |
| The city walls of Babylon | |
| Are now decorated with the bodies of your | |
| Weak followers | |
| Here they hang begging for our mercy | |
| With a symbol of your teachings | |
| We can't do nothing but hate | |
| Behold | |
| From our synagogue of Satan | |
| We say to you | |
| Do never lower your heads in awe | |
| For a god so good and mild | |
| Let us praise the one with black horns | |
| Woe | |
| Woe to you oh falling god | |
| See how we scorn your work and worshippers | |
| See how they hang in shameful nakedness | |
| On the bloodstained walls of Babylon | |
| The white sun bites us | |
| But why be afraid | |
| The bright morning star has turned black | |
| Your empire is ruined oh god of life and light | |
| And I am your Judas |
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