"Rise now, ye faithful!
Witness these auspicious signs
The riotous winds blow with terrible greatness
And sovereign purpose illuminates the grand design!
Behold clamoring chaos
Ripe for rapture, the multitudes await
Your leaden devotion
A boot to quake the earth
A fist to wield the weapons of fate"
Scavenger prophets
These foul vultures of loss
Proudly aloft in their ill-gotten sky
A swarming starving cloud
The holy vermin
Desperate for burden
And flush with demagogue urge
The righteous impious
They see themselves as kings
Reap the spoils from the tributary herds
And unto a ripe world
Hiss the word of god
"Resurrect the esoteric words"
Liars tongue
Benighted reason
"A fist against the weakness of the world"
Coward strength
Desperate urges
"Arise! Arise! to meet a golden day!"
Mass affliction
Joyous rage, the work is never done
Scavengers, vultures of loss
Victims of their own invective
Lives turned kindling for the flame
The noble work is never-ending
Lest their prayers will not be heard
For every silent fear there crawls a shadow
Born from where no joy abounds
And time becomes a shrill
Reminder of a frail existence
Not bound by memories
But measured by the deepest sorrow
Wither hope and rise reborn
A vessel of the damned to claim the world
A just doom for a savage season
Cruel their purpose, cruel their death
A just doom for a savage season
Cruel their purpose, cruel their death
Glorious freedom, the hate lives forever
A just doom for a savage season
From the depths of loss something worse appears
Cruel its purpose, cruel its death
Glorious freedom, the hate lives forever
A just doom for a savage season
From the depths of loss something worse appears
Cruel its purpose, cruel its death
