The spearhead of resistance Shoots through the doors of false accord Spit on them and their temple Shattered glass and splintered stone This is their night of massacre The Crescent has breathed its last This is the march of storm and tyranny The blighted night of your own decree No prisoners are taken No one is spared from this deed Wasting in the corridors Of forgotten history From crooked lips, the Sacred One Can only create perfection Temple now aflame Fire sprayed across their hole Burned books and icons Theyll all be ashes tomorrow. This is their night of massacre The Crescent has breathed its last This is the march of storm and tyranny The blighted night of your own decree
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