[Litmanen / Vil] Deep flows the stream Beneath the hills of Occident Dark as blood running through ages dim From beginning 'til the end In caves and grottoes spied Renounced, revered and scryed By men with dolch and bell Roma, Amor; the ill and well For good spirits of the Europe Men come with staff and scepter alike With Tafur hordes, on horses high Paint the Devil on the wall Paint it black and paint it tall But as Montsegur endures There will be your light Oh Lucibel And when we shall burn alive With sulphur crowns shoot up the sky Then we shall be your light Oh Lucibel Pale is the horse Upon which sits merciful fate Crimson the hooves To trample fools beneath its gait Heretics and warlocks Their vernal equinox Gods suffered not by Rome Gods men know not Gods men forgot For good spirits of Europe Men come with cudgel and claymore alike With Tafur hordes, on horses high And it's not the life that's given But the d**h that's taken When all that we're worth is vanguished Damned and undone The goods spirits of Europe Stand with abraxas behind the sun We'll burn in your fire, Lucibel Burn through the night, Lucibel Burn as the sun, Lucibel