1 - PURGATORY

Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

Ô toi, le plus savant et le plus beau des Anges,
Dieu trahi par le sort et privé de louanges,

Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

Ô Prince de l’exil, à qui l’on a fait tort,
Et qui, vaincu, toujours te redresses plus fort,

Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

Toi qui sais tout, grand roi des choses souterraines,
Guérisseur familier des angoisses humaines,

Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

Toi qui, même aux lépreux, aux parias maudits,
Enseignes par l’amour le goût du Paradis,

Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

Ô toi qui de la Mort, ta vieille et forte amante,
Engendras l’Espérance, — une folle charmante !

Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

Toi qui fais au proscrit ce regard calme et haut
Qui damne tout un peuple autour d’un échafaud,

Ô Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

Toi qui sais en quels coins des terres envieuses
Le Dieu jaloux cacha les pierres précieuses,

Ô Satan, Satan, Satan, prends pitié de ma longue misère !

2 - THE MARK OF THE GOAT

Under the moon
We summon you
Under the moon
We're devoted to you

In the mist, three witches dressed in white,
Their greedy souls waiting for midnight.
Forming a circle around an offering,
They invoke the one they've choosen for king.

Under the moon
We summon you
Under the moon
We're devoted to you

His black horns draw in the flames,
The three witches scream his name.
Smoked specters filling their throats,
They are cursed by the mark of the goat.

Sigillum diabolicum
Sigillum diabolicum

Under the moon
We summon you
Under the moon
We're devoted to you

His black horns draw in the flames,
The three witches scream his name.
Smoked specters filling their throats,
They are cursed by the mark of the goat.

3 - IT'S ALIVE

In a graveyard, his thin shape cutted by the moon
Dozens silent shadows observing him
He's digging up a fresh corpse, just buried at noon
A desecration ! So bleak ! So grim !

Your heart extinguished, your flesh cold as ice
Your eyes to the east, a new breath is coming by.
Now, your fate is led. Your soul is on the sill.
Wake up from the dead and walk under my will.

Forbidden death magic, he uses like no other
He has signed a blood pact with the Devil
A baleful character, he's the Necromancer
Turns his nights into ghoulish ritual

Your heart extinguished, your flesh cold as ice
Your eyes to the east, a new breath is coming by.
Now, your fate is led. Your soul is on the sill.
Wake up from the dead and walk under my will.

This livid corpse,
Surrounded by black crows,
Receiving the flame
In a heart without a name.
A dark blood in the veins
Freed of the limbo chains.
With a sparke in the eye,
By the moon, he cries out "It's alive !"

Bones powder, witch blood and some ethereal poisons
His white hands calling for eternity
He's giving an existence to a newborn son
On a bed of pale lily.

This livid corpse,
Surrounded by black crows,
Receiving the flame
In a heart without a name.
A dark blood in the veins
Freed of the limbo chains.
With a sparke in the eye,
By the moon, he cries out "It's alive !"

4 - NO CANDLE TO IGNITE

Slighly trapped behind a glintless mirror
Violently dead, a ghost in terror
A cracked reflection, a false illusion
He thinks he's still alive, locked in desolation

A black veil separates him from all his memories
Kept away eternally, left alone with his fears

To undo this expiration, these hopes shattered
Let me reverse the clock hands, he offered

To live once again, he would have sold his soul
To the Prince of the Darkness, to the Devil
He is a shadow, he's a ghost, lost in the night
In the Purgatory, there's no candle to ignite

Draped in a shroud, his eyes closed for ever
He can see his corpse, grey as silver
His body headless, his heart in a chest
Waiting for a single word to suffer or to rest

The black veil, wreathing him, will never disappear
Wrecking him and letting a widow with her tears

To undo this expiration, these hopes shattered
Let me reverse the clock hands, he offered

To live once again, he would have sold his soul
To the Prince of the Darkness, to the Devil
He is a shadow, he's a ghost, lost in the night
In the Purgatory, there's no candle to ignite

5 - A FORKED TAIL AND HORNS

Six curious souls around the table
Lightened by a candle
Joining their hands and closing their eyes
Speaking with the other side

If he's here, he will knock once
Which name shall we pronounce ?
I call you from the dead
Hear my voice, the words unsaid
A black moon will draw the path
From death to life, your spirit will pass

Moving on the board, the cracked glass leaves a message
The spiritualists try to read it, but the ghost speaks too fast
A dark smoke rises from below, bringing cold like a thorn
The creature that appears has a forked tail and horns !

Six frightened souls, no longer alone
Shivering to the bone
By daring the dark, they opened a gate
Where the devil starts to create

Demon, you've heard our calling
For your Lord, we are waiting
As the night takes over the day
As the light fades into grey
I command you to warn your master
We will serve him, fulfill his orders

Moving on the board, the cracked glass leaves a message
The spiritualists try to read it, but the ghost speaks too fast
A dark smoke rises from below, bringing cold like a thorn
The creature that appears has a forked tail and horns !

6 - INFERNAL FLAMES

In ashy twirling volutes,
Able to see the future, she will tell the tale.
Her crystal ball reveals fortunes,
With some words, she will open a door leading to Hell.

Some will see a witch, a banshee
Reading in the abyss, deeply.
For some coins, the omen will be better,
Her deadly counterpart to Lucifer.

Around the crystal, she rises her hands
Grasps in the hourglass each grain of sand
Asserting a future once uncertain
This Devil bride let an eye in infernal flames.

A reader of buried dreams
Perceives the great mysteries for days to come.
She's the witness of hushed whims
That hands over the lost ones, the poor souls to demons.

This perfect knowledge of future
Was given to her in sulphur.
In return of being this mighty oracle,
She dropped off her view in a pentacle.

Around the crystal, she rises her hands
Grasps in the hourglass each grain of sand
Asserting a future once uncertain
This Devil bride let an eye in infernal flames.

7 - PHILOSOPHER'S STONE

Cutted asphodel and mandrake flowers
Wither in a curiosity cabinet.
In a scent of opium and ether,
He studies one of the deepest secrets.

He no longer eats, no longer sleeps,
Obsessed with this never denied belief,
Spending his days and nights
Until he finds the Alchemy rites.

Magic incantations and ancient spells
Written endlessly with his own blood.
Between false pretenses and untold libels
He will prove he can change lead into gold !

Haunted by the howling of the wolves,
Tormented by this so coveted stone.
His research for eternity
Will mark the dark side of history.

I will change water into wine,
Lead will turn into gold.
My powers surpass the divine.
Immortality will keep me from getting old !

Dreaming he is a new god on his throne,
The Great Creator, the one with the Philosopher's Stone.

The Alchemy rites, at last, have begun.
They are calling for the cogent Satan.

I will change water into wine,
Lead will turn into gold.
My powers surpass the divine.
Immortality will keep me from getting old !

Dreaming he is a new god on his throne,
The Great Creator, the one with the Philosopher's Stone.

8 - THE BAPHOMET CULT

Paly faces, hidden by dark hoods,
Lightening black candles and rejecting the rood.
A goat head and two wings,
His name on all the lips, in whisperings.

The moon rays crossing though the stained glass
Reveal his dark precepts, his dogmas.
The Book of Shadows, all signed with their blood,
Let the disciples see their occult god.

"I invoke thee, God within myself !
That I may seek my own redemption
That I may know the secrets within the world !
That I raise myself to be Wise through experience and test
So I shall be a Bringer of Light."

He was born in the deepest darkness,
His worshipers expect to be blessed.
Their litanies resound under the vaults.
The Baphomet Cult.

They are devoted body and soul
To the dreadful figure they put on a pedestal.
Covered with fur, shod in hooves,
Promoting vices, hushing up virtues.

His powers are as feared as longed for,
His cruel clawed hands capture their clamor.
Staring at the weak with fiery pupils,
The beginning of his baleful principle.

"May I always have the wisdom to hold myself accountable
To treat others as they would treat me
To seek Happiness in Victory
To challenge myself to greater self-directed accomplishment
That I shall be as the Dragon which devours weakness."

He was born in the deepest darkness,
His worshipers expect to be blessed.
Their litanies resound under the vaults.
The Baphomet ... Cult.

9 - IN A DREARY COFFIN

Some grim smirks unveiling his sharp fangs,
In his cursed heart, the blood desire sprangs.
Wrapped in the twilight, in the howling of the wolves,
His nebulous shadow hiding between the oldest graves grove.

Denn die Toten reiten schnell (The Strigoi)
Denn die Toten reiten schnell (The Strigoi)
Listen to them, the children of the night. (The Strigoi)
What music they make ! (The Strigoi)

Accursed and undead
For whom night never fades.
The moonlight for only sheen,
Crossing centuries in a dreary coffin.

The crimson sap swirling in his glass,
In Transylvania, he is the dismal dynast.
Reigning in the darkness, gloominess for only bride,
He will be evermore the bloodthirsty fiend that never misguides.

Denn die Toten reiten schnell (The Strigoi)
Denn die Toten reiten schnell (The Strigoi)
Listen to them, the children of the night. (The Strigoi)
What music they make ! (The Strigoi)

Accursed and undead
For whom night never fades.
The moonlight for only sheen,
Crossing centuries in a dreary coffin.

10 - YOU NEPHILIM

From the most illustrious fallen angels
A secret tongue was born
Holy writs to adorn,
Kept away from gospels.

They are the infamous sons of Elohim,
Their names and faces known by pious pilgrims,
Slavering over and diving to a mortal life,
Egregores will be born and thrive.

Hide the world and make us see your gleam,
The watchman of our nights, you Nephilim.

So long ignored by the sacred texts and books,
They're going out from shadows,
Along the dark path they took,
Marching on our tomorrows.

Fallen and rejected, they've been forgotten
Extinguished by the world, from Hell to Heaven.
From ageless ashes, they will awake and rise,
Dismissed creatures, angels in disguise.

Hide the world and make us see your gleam,
The black flame of your candle will not sway.
Just few words from you and we shall obey
The watchman of our nights, you Nephilim.