Under the pale moon rides The Morningstar
With keys to the astral gates and mystic doors
Black rays of night hold his wings aloft
Black potions brewing in his afterthoughts

Armies crying out his name
Whips lashing out in pain
The hordes of death are various
Until we kill the Sagittarius

Fly through the flames as the sun explodes
Violate the [bad word] that the seeker knows
Fear seized the heart of the angel spawn
Savour the taste of the final dawn

Armies crying out his name
Whips lashing out in pain
The hordes of death will bury us
And we'll kill the Sagittarius