| Our wrath is about to be unleashed
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| Upon you — oh lord of goodness
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| For so long we have waited and believe us
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| The future will be a vast black memory on your grave
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| Behold
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| From our synagogue of Satan
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| We say to you
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| Black metal warriors of northern lands
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| Lift your swords up high
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| Let us praise
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| The horned one
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| The lord of the sulphur souls
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| The city walls of Babylon
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| Are now decorated with the bodies of your
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| Weak followers
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| Here they hang begging for our mercy
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| With a symbol of your teachings
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| We can’t do nothing but hate
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| Behold
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| From our synagogue of Satan
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| We say to you
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| Do never lower your heads in awe
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| For a god so good and mild
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| Let us praise the one with black horns
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| Woe
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| Woe to you oh falling god
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| See how we scorn your work and worshippers
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| See how they hang in shameful nakedness
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| On the bloodstained walls of Babylon
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| The white sun bites us
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| But why be afraid
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| The bright morning star has turned black
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| Your empire is ruined oh god of life and light
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| And I am your Judas |