| The night descends silently on the earth
|
| Covering with black veil the heavens dome
|
| The heir of sheeps has new horned chief
|
| Drink the puddle water and everything’s gonna be alright
|
| Solid ziggurat for Aztec god of war
|
| The first victim of the cult is the great creator
|
| (Triumvirate paints the world with blood
|
| Red altar needs for new sacrifice)
|
| And so the madman said, There is no God
|
| So if this one doesn’t match, make up the new one
|
| The architect wants the throne for himself
|
| Just because fuck you all, that’s why
|
| Seven tiers, soaked with centenary tortures
|
| Theater with creatures, the living dolls
|
| They won’t let go the vicar of mysterious traditions
|
| His excellence now is limitless
|
| And now, beasts, don’t be afraid
|
| Now you don’t need to be afraid
|
| By necrotic ring of occult energy
|
| Predestined will be closed by secret community
|
| The chief will build his throne high
|
| Fog everywhere. |
| In silence — the speechless sight
|
| «The feeling of reality is only abstract
|
| The deep of times phantom consumes
|
| Our future — the dusk
|
| The world always been such is
|
| Boyar exchanges serfs for puppiers
|
| And so the madman said, There is no God
|
| So if this one doesn’t match, make up the new one
|
| The architect wants the throne for himself
|
| Just because fuck you all, that’s why
|
| Seven tiers, soaked with centenary tortures
|
| Theater with creatures, the living dolls
|
| They won’t let go the vicar of mysterious traditions
|
| His excellence now is limitless
|
| And now, beasts, don’t be afraid |