Shockwaves resound never felt in the bastions of madness,
the sun sets unnoticed again.
In a [bad word] of gray, a flood of locrian noise,
full of deafening rain,
sings the song of the storm:
 [bad word] to a [bad word] in the darkness."
Shockwaves resound never felt in the bastions of madness,
the craze of the voices begin:
"No soil can fill your trenches,
no gold can pay your debt,
no bandages can cover the wounds you shall have met.
No court can give you justice,
no thorns can crown your head,
no pageantry can ever hide your starving, sick and dead."