Wings, graceful, angelic, outstretched Ignite and ensue the first angel As the foul, false guide he was Spirals to the ground in a burning heap Of smouldering hope The gates of eternal bliss instantly rust As the smell of sulphur rise The first cult summoned By those of shadows rush forward Black magic protects us Under the sign of the pentagram We march Burning all, rape and ruin Angels impaled on stakes of bone Their screams echoing through God's land To glory To ruin For Satan