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
 
 Rewritten in blood?
  
 
 What unity in tribes long scattered?
 
 What glory and hope in a cross that is shattered?
 
 Hark! the mourning wails of defeat echoes throughout centuries!
  
 
 The horns of the baphomet in the wounds of jesus thrice
 
 An alligeance of flesh and steel, unto which titan altar we all kneel
 
 Hark! the reversed words of yahwe from the pulpits of abomination!
  
 
 See him now possessed and reborn, the fallen messiah alight
 
 At the burning crest of the serpent's spiral smiling in confusion
 
 Fear all ye faithful for no longer on his forehead a crown of thorns
 
 In the shadow of the bloodstained cross christ has risen... with horns!
  
 
 Ichtus!
 
 Iniquitys mystery revealed!
 
 Iesous christos theou uios soter
 
 Where there was thorns shall be the horns of a goat
 
 For neither in life or in death are they absent!
 
 Ichtus!
 
 The greatest of creations laid to waste!
 
 Malformed and depraved limbless nothingness son of a whore
 
 Two nails in your hands for both father and son
 
 And in the dirt of your feet piercing the holy spirit