---

Proud wandering exile

Banished from stinky paradise

Damned walk in the shadows

Thirsty for sacred lambs

They get up when trumpets sound

Now surrender to the black riders

The buzz of the crying knock down

Looking around for exit

Came the end of his days

Proud wandering exile

Banished from stinky paradise

Damned walk in the shadows

Thirsty for sacred lambs

There is no rest

There is no possible truce

In the name of the past

Now you suffer persecution

Proud wandering exile

Banished from stinky paradise

Damned walk in the shadows

Recreating historical events

You wash your hands with the memory

Death in the name of god

Punished for their ignorance

He creates in his image and likeness

To kneel angels

To those who lie here

Betting on the good

From this holy war

No miracle would save you

He live his children

Afraid of the dark

He creates in his image and likeness

To kneel angels

To those who lie here

Betting on the good

From this holy war

No miracle would save you

He live his children

Afraid of the dark

Victims in their hands

Bleed and hit the ground

They seek prosperity ... feeding the flames with Christian souls ...

Give life to the fire ...

Wood-preacher meat

This is the new inquisition

Pagans subject Christian

Give death to the coward

Who blindly worship the purification

Fall near kings in the swamp

And their flocks full of misery

Victims in their hands

Bleed and hit the ground

They seek prosperity ... feeding the flames with Christian souls ...

They are the sons of satan

And now they seek prosperity

And now ... there is no break, no Truce!

In the name of the past

You suffer persecution, pain and misery

torment your soul ...