Darkness conquers any day,Servants of the abyss, praise murder,
Wicked, shrouded, sinners, a cult,
Dedicated to violence, kill and exult.
Exalted master of decapitation,
The butcher a skeletal abomination,
Legendarily skilled in the words of the grimoire,
The blackened malpractice of unholy power.
Plunders a dungeon to claim its gold,
An infernal halberdier, blood ice cold,
His hooded shroud, his black platemail,
From the shadows; the milkman, to kill without fail.
A forgotten Isle of white,
A power none can respite,
Crimson smears across their land,
They call themselves by their master's hand.
Prechorus
Rip them apart, Leave nothing left,
Approbation to the Hand of Death.
Chorus
An army of shadowed soldiers march on,
Stealing and killing, one by one,
Feared and loathed,
Innocence abhorred,
Pledge allegiance to the darkest Lord,
As you bleed, as you burn, let out thy last breath,
Remember the dreaded - Hand of Death.
Homicide for a smile, again and again,
Blood soaked shrouds hang loose,
Heads despoiled, stabbed or hung,
Innocence tightens the hangman's noose.
Funeral ceremonies for lamentation,
Bury heads alone, satisfies dementation,
In the mausoleum, stone bricks,
Jigsawed into a tower of evil,
An accursed hex,
Massacre, massacre till there's nothing left!
Prechorus
Chorus
