The Birth Of The Race Lyrics - Singles - Lux Occulta

off the sinister heavens I strip the arc of moon 

the cosmic sickle starts the deicidial harvest 

I am the wheel of fortune that grinds your chest 

the fruit of the storm and the kingdom belongs to me 

the time has come, your time, my father 

this is my fate 

to raise my hand 

against the silver temples 

that is my fate 

to set up new order 

the castle of clouds shakes 

this is my fate 

to get the sword 

and paint the mountains red 

the crescent of moon ploughs his breast 

cry, cry all spirits, the old one is dead 

drops of his blood whirling around 

changing their colours, altering shapes 

his purple juices transform into angels 

hosts of lust, Dionysiac tribe 

regicide sword, bull-horned god 

brother of all spirits, 

lead your troops, lead us to Earth, 

feed us with flesh 

feed me with flesh 

teach me substance 

lightnings, thunders... 

he is not dead 

he regains his strength 

spears of royal curse 

bullets of royal wrath 

lightnings, thunders chase us 

...but we'll be back 

...some day