Blood Of Saints

Priest

Diseased

Poison in your mind

Try

To preach

Your sermon for the weak

While

Your lungs

Are crawling ‘round your spine

Regurgitate

When you are running past your peak

Horny

Monks

Clutching tightly ‘round their throats

Frivolous

Nuns

You better heed the call

Berserkers

Burning

The contents of your scrolls

Heathen

Beliefs

Still strong within us all

Blood

Red sky

An omen to respect

Night

To day

A monastery ablaze

Swords

Of death

A mission to protect

The heathen gods

Our pagan heritage

Blood of saints – crushing christianity

Dragonships, the scourge of the seven seas

Blood of saints – crushing christianity

Norsemen, the scourge of your belief

When the pagans desecrated the sanctuaries

Of God, and poured out the blood of saints

Around the altar, laid waste the house of our hope

Trampled on the bodies of saints in the temple of God

Like dung in the street. What can we say except

Lament in our soul with you before christ's altar

And say: “spare, o lord, spare thy people

And give not thine inheritance to the gentiles

Lest the pagan say, ‘where is the God of the christians?”