Contemplate our bodies licked by the pyre In these holy flames we burn Condemned, silenced But we keep our worship to the God with Horns Chosen to early quit this life We are surrounded by screams, Surrounded by your religious threats Guilty to open the calcined Gates of Hell So we embrace their torches with a smile on our face We are the satanic heralds Black mass, horned priests We are heretics Brace yourselves and enjoy your last breath We're born in black, we're the Sons of Baphomet You can hate us but don't forget we hate you first Behold! We're the Children of the Malignant