| Born into chains ever cursing our birth
|
| So hearken my friends, we must vanquish our plight
|
| By numbers by force we lift the curse
|
| From the slavery we shall arise in might
|
| Raise your swords up high my friends!
|
| Raise your swords up high!
|
| Behold! |
| Their immortal kings, our foes
|
| Fallen! |
| Writhing in their death-throes
|
| Alas! |
| They lie obliterated into nothingness
|
| Grim death! |
| Is dealt, Immortality made flesh
|
| Ruling with fear and with false renown
|
| Boasting sovereignty, protecting so-called rights divine
|
| By heritage you gained your crown
|
| But blood will be the price of mine
|
| Take your plots to hell with you!
|
| Take your plots to hell!
|
| Alas! |
| Thou immortal king, my foe
|
| Fallen! |
| Writhing in thy death-throes
|
| Thy convulsing face by my flail, I thresh
|
| Grim death I deal, immortality made flesh
|
| Commanding your slaves to conquer the lands
|
| Whilst sitting on satin and guzzling fine wine
|
| True valor I gained not from lofty divans
|
| But from the abyss to the throne I have climbed
|
| Raise your swords up high my friends!
|
| Raise your swords up high!
|
| Behold! |
| Their immortal kings, our foes
|
| Fallen! |
| Writhing in their death-throes
|
| Alas! |
| They lie obliterated into nothingness
|
| Grim death! |
| Is dealt, Immortality made flesh |