Watain

No less real than those whose voices echoes through the starless abyss
No less cruel their nature, no less harmful their intent
Of sinful seed, of soiled womb, circling the five wings throughout eternities
And in a tomb beneath the pyramid of faith, as a crown lain at their feet
Behold the pillaged and impure remains of a god who failed
Guarded by the giant pillars to be moved by the Devil alone
For they are the stones of the throne of christ which He swallowed
and exhaled unto earth as his own!
ICHTUS!
Thine gills art dried!
Iesous Christos Theou Uios Soter
Where there was heart shall be vertebra
...For your children have been led astray!
ICHTUS!
Quench thine thirst with my urine
Warm as love it shall rinse through the salt in your lungs
For the thirst of the desert strangles all senses
Tempted art thou and noone can resist Him...
None!
For what is the worth of a godless prophet whose tounge since long has dried,
in completeness bereft from grace?
Through milleniums tormented by the eternal eye and it's piercing vigilance
Doomed to fail, for what hope can you ignite in their forsaken hearts?
When in deluge thou art fallen, your scriptures are altered and your doctrine