Once somebody told you beyond the sky there lay the lost paradise...
Thus this world doesn't lie under the so-called "divine providence".
Illusion is all what the preachers insist that they have seen in their own eyes.
Miserable puppets made to pretend the "messiah" highly declare soon there will truly manifest false doomsday and forgery recreation.
Thus this world doesn't lie under the so-called "divine providence".
As far as you live in your own world... the world is nothing more nor less than yours.
You also could obtain the mask of the "messiah" as you long for.
All that will be the Jihad for this whole world then outbreaks.
And sing thou in praising the new divine kingdom.
Among the thick clouds rays down the gray light.
And sing thou in praising the new divine kingdom.
The land once you hated is being scorched as hell.
Thus this world doesn't lay under the so-called "divine providence".
Preachers will have their own blood spilled by the devils they created on their own papers.
Puppets pretending the "messiah" will kneel down deadly in vomiting black blood.
Soon there will truly manifest the false' end and the forgery's collapse.
Would start having a little hope by seeing such world but everything behind it has lost long ago...
You scooped your both eyes out and sank them deep into the sea.
Why you stopped your steps forward?
In that frozen bed, your discarded memory...
Your discarded memory powerlessly flickering, without anything sinful, silently disappears.
Once somebody told you beyond the sky there lay the lost paradise.
The promised land engraved on your eyelids, however, is illusion.
There was no God.
Thus time's come for your vengeance.
Stop the cycle here, so that everything collapses down in pieces.
And sing thou in praising the new divine kingdom in order to turn everything back to their own proper shapes.
The beacon of the final Jihad invokes you.
The blade of your eternal hate is put down beyond time.
And sing thou in praising the new divine kingdom in order to turn everything back to their own proper shapes.
Mow the heads of all the imitation god, messiah and preachers out.
Every absurdity returns to nothingness beyond time and space.
And sing thou in praising the new divine kingdom in order to turn everything back to their own proper shapes.
Burnt ground blesses you, with blood washed with blood.
Pillars of blaze in the north declare the dawn of the new age.
And sing thou in praising the new divine kingdom.
Thus again everything kneels down to you.
Again it all starts spinning towards the new divine kingdom.