Raised in a dead world Darker day by day From the cradle to the grave Flourishing human decay A scepter raised A scepter praised Crush the crown of thorns A scepter raised A scepter praised Crush the throne of the grotesque I despise your icons And the genocide behind them Millions slaughtered in their names Just a garment for the priests A scepter raised A scepter praised Crush the crown of thorns A scepter raised A scepter praised Crush the throne of the grotesque Bless the children with your cult Your popaganda of death Cleanse your hands Servants of light Cleanse your hands Servants of Christ Servants of light