Consumed by tongues of fire burning like Phlegethon   Holy gardens reduced to ash   Extinguishing light of hope, bringing the end of the days      Words of my gospel scattered   Sacrilegious scorn spat in pale creeds   Thin is the line between pure being and pure nothing   My sole companion woe to Thee      At my command   Let the blood of the infants flood the streets of Bethlehem      O ye of little faith with ethics rotten in a moral cage   Dead meat thrown down to the worms   To feed religious tumor corrupting marrow of repugnant swirl      At my command   Let the blood of the infants flood the streets of Bethlehem   At my command   Let the heads of Samaritan pave my ways      Shemhamforash   Shemhamforash   Shemhamforash