Rape of Creed - Elizium

Rise, my brethren

Behold the blood red sky

Gathering our army

Our enemies shall cry

Havoc to their families

No help at hand

Desecrated holy ground

Their angels cannot land

-refr-

Feathered wings on fire

We’ll crush all old belief

We’ll march onto our victory

Their faces full of grief

Churches burnt till blackness

Laughing at them all

Priests, crucifiction…

No salvation there at all

-refr-

-REFREIN: —

We shall cleanse the land from prophets and priests

We’ll give 'blessed' another meaning

Death and slaughter among them god-fearing beasts

They’ll be dead, no longer dreaming