Forsaken, left beneath a crimson sky
Alone, as countless souls ascend
Souls ov men long forgotten or rudely pressed into legend
The living simply cry with foolish self pity
Despair chills my mortal skin
But within, a hatred older than the earth burns bright

My solitude is broken by a familiar voice:
The Master ov Hell and Earth
Glory far greater than the angelic trumpets behold is nigh

Restored to power by heavenly retreat, Satan takes the throne ov Man
But Satan is not my master, he is the guiding flame

Into the night I came alive
In deepest darkness I shall thrive!

He lets my hatred flare!
LORD SATAN grants me freedom, power, and joy
I relinquish my despair, LORD SATAN,
And prepare for the final battle

Armed with my dæmon-sword, I wander
Laughing at the clouds lined with fools pointlessly enslaved to sing praise to a god they've never seen

I know the day will come, LORD SATAN,
When the angels' blessed blood will be spill'd!
The praise that they sing, LORD SATAN,
Forever will be muted by my blade!