Anointed by a vermillion rain
I rip the veil, shifting planes
Baptized at last in this polluted storm
And the promised [bad word] finally takes form

Plunge this place into the pit of everlasting pain
Let them see all that awaits
For the judgment of the slain.

I bear the sacred flames of [bad word] From their souls, all distortion I will purge.
With ardor and sword, I cleave despotic flesh
Unmask the tyrants and sing the devils’ dirge.

Gaze now upon the forms of your foes
Do you deny them of their control? [bad word] they have bestowed?
[Or] do you remain a slave to your woes?

This place is for the fallen, and so it falls to thee
It was my judgment that you allow your eyes to see
Now, the choice is yours and I have sacrificed my wings
May you find release from the reign of the Jagged King.