Before the seven seals are broken And the four call us to come The daughter of night Salutes us in flight Canters in avantgarde sole We chase the winged swine Too close to the sun We burn We fall To finally drown Before we hear the sound of seven trumpets And cries of souls slain for the word of god The sister of death Takes away our breath Holds the banner of victory high We produce wonders dime a dozen To present right before her throne We stand so bold Of our silver and gold Empty bowels, coughing blood Violence Arrogance Pride