Prophecy of the last days
Thyestean feastSummoned be the first of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease
Beheld,
White horse of savior.
Above every god
Dark prince
Diverse from all humanflesh fooled
Spread wings like horns, angelchrist
Eyes for lies in mouths of truth
From horns shall ten kings rise
Come to domes of remorse
Summoned be the second of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease
Hear rapture of lies, lies of god
Breed the lies!
Adulation of trickery, desecration of prophecy
Come to domes of remorse
Summoned be the third of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease
Before him stands two candles lit
Served in faith, banquet of plague
Seasons imitate march of the sick,
Black as hate in vows to wake
Come to domes of remorse
Summoned be the last of my four beasts
Rip bare the omens of cross
Inhale the words, trueborn disease
To slay with sword
To slay with hunger
To slay with death
And with beasts of the earth