| Ripe is the hour
|
| We’ve come out of foul constellations
|
| Suffered the illness
|
| Worn by apathy, torn by frustration
|
| Come out, come out, wherever you are
|
| The bell of redemption is tolling
|
| If you want to live, steer clear of our path
|
| The slow-mover's head will be rolling
|
| Watch out, you purblind
|
| Woe to you keepers
|
| We’ll cry out
|
| Samurai, the shadow’s revived
|
| As daylight retires, we prepare to ignite
|
| At sundown, you will see no fear in our eyes
|
| The blade of katana strikes, tonight
|
| So, swains of conformity
|
| Disciples of expired authorities
|
| Pray that we’ll never meet
|
| From london to tokyo, armed to the teeth
|
| Watch out for the iron sign
|
| Woe to you lackeys
|
| We’ll cry out
|
| Samurai, the shadow’s revived
|
| As daylight retires, we prepare to ignite
|
| At showdown, you will see your death in our eyes
|
| The blade of katana strikes, tonight
|
| Samurai, the shadow’s revived
|
| As daylight retires, we prepare to ignite
|
| At sundown, you will fear the death in our eyes
|
| The blade of katana strikes
|
| Samurai, the demon’s alive
|
| The blade of katana strikes, tonight |