Under the pale moon rides The Morningstar With keys to the astral gates and mystic doors Black rays of night hold his wings aloft Black potions brewing in his afterthoughts
Armies crying out his name Whips lashing out in pain The hordes of death are various Until we kill the Sagittarius
Fly through the flames as the sun explodes Violate the truth that the seeker knows Fear seized the heart of the angel spawn Savour the taste of the final dawn
Armies crying out his name Whips lashing out in pain The hordes of death will bury us And we'll kill the Sagittarius
