| My sworn enemies upon whom I will tread
|
| With scorn and despise and disdain
|
| Those worms are breeding in nests, and feeding from us
|
| Their shameful souls I will devour in pain
|
| Thirsty — blood spilt on my reign
|
| This world soaked with fear, demise
|
| The earth is covered in scars
|
| Desolation
|
| I shall recognize each torn corpse immolated
|
| For I will decide a ritual knife
|
| Secretly severing every bone
|
| They shall become the square shaped sacrifice
|
| The flesh pyramid upon which I’ll call my new gods
|
| Sacrifice — dead are piled
|
| Prepare and incision on the cervical vertebra
|
| Check the gusts — Check the stars
|
| Thrusting a nail through the ocular orbit
|
| Cross their arms — Wait the dawn
|
| Cut the third finger in the handoff the seventh dead
|
| Say the world — She your blood
|
| Offer the flesh to honor the cannibal gods
|
| Ferte Mortem
|
| Ferte Mortem
|
| Servi me — Servi me — Servi me — Servi me
|
| Those worms are breeding in nests, and feeding from us
|
| Their shameful souls I will devour in pain
|
| Thirsty — blood spilt on my reign
|
| This world soaked with fear, demise
|
| The earth is covered in scars
|
| Ferte Mortem
|
| Ferte Mortem, fertote |