Hlysts, religious men
Sin to drive out sin
To the holy land and back
May the roads grow thin
Wolf among the sheep
Sin to drive out sin
Holy rod sinks deep
Mad monk, Rasputin!

Prophet of drying czar
Killed by first big war
His son can stand the blood
Heal him, oh, mad monk

Cyanide he ate
Bullets he took
This holy man
Red wine with venom
And shot in the back

Charming the vixens around him
All the ladies were willing
But one of them was royal
For that, he lost it all

Buried in Peter's town
Stolen from grave
Burned to ashes
Called it a day!

Invoker of the riding angel of death
His name shall be known through
Time beyond time
Deploying the devil's evil schemes

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