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Invertcross in my hand, pure blood is running through my veins

Too dark to see on this night of blasphemy

I can feel the winter wind pounding my face

In this bloody war of Aryan purity

As I cut the throats of race betrayers

The honour grows within me

I am the bringer of total Holocaust

Soon this world will be pure

Satan bless my Aryan soul

With your might and strength