Purification instrument, Arming the powerful with hatred, Now I see you there, jewhova, enslaver Burn the face of the weakling god!
We were armed with one will, When we bonded with ancient rebellion, Our wisdom now laughs And mocks the ways of god. We were one with you, Our blades carved black wounds, Into the crying faces, Of the chorus of your praise, Pull the curtains of death, With honor I light your flames! Pity and weakness are, The chains of the counterfeit light! The law of man looks down, Flings lightning to the cross, Crafted for our slavery, We drink the blood of god. Icon of pity and weakness, Tortured beyond all life, Mocked, scourged and crucified, The symbol of your lies.
The serpents flame is our light, Incense of burning martyrs, Mouths receive the sacraments, Of lead and Zyklon gas.
I refuse your weakness, I refuse your outstretched hand, I spit in the face of the merciful, I spit on the corpse of the virgin, I follow the smoke of burning bodies, Into the eternal wisdom of night.