| Empty the vessel and hollow the shell
|
| Come, toungues of fire
|
| Abandon all earthly, glance deep into hell
|
| Purge and inspire
|
| The act of worship sets us ablaze
|
| Demonic burden, ecstatic delight
|
| A monument of malicious sonority
|
| Our humble sacrifice, devotional rite
|
| Revealed in the flesh
|
| Justified in the spirit
|
| Seen by the chosen
|
| Heard by the few
|
| All earthly vanities of existence
|
| Exceeded by tones supreme
|
| Melodies older than mortality
|
| Enormous as death itself
|
| Praise his name
|
| Chosen are the ones
|
| Who have command of the language
|
| That needs neither mouth nor words
|
| Who transform the inmost truth to notes
|
| Who form sculptures reflecting his glory
|
| And spread the gospel of the horned
|
| We’ve been granted the most precious gift
|
| We are element and entirety
|
| Performing the everlasting cycle
|
| Without beginning or end
|
| Find the unimaginable paradise
|
| Amidst these pits of hell
|
| Those who chant his hymns
|
| Hallowed be their names
|
| Immortal is the choir
|
| Only the highest art
|
| Supreme and impure
|
| Purified through his will
|
| Great indeed, we confess, is the mystery of him |