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In the night of the priest

The servants seek for the saint’s blood

Killing in the name of the whisperer

Spitting on the fallen cross.

Down the hill, wrapped in hate

The pain runs under the sword

Killing in the name of the whisperer.

The silence is complete in the frozen hearts

Feeling fear like a solid stone

The servants smell the sadness

Lilith sits on her black throne.

The butchery is about to begin

The cries tear the night

Killing in the name of the whisperer.

The thoughts in the wind are spread in the fire.

In the night of the doom

The servants sow future hatreds

The claws of the God that they obey

Push them towards the numb

The second door has been opened

And time runs like hell

Killing in the name of the whisperer.