Founded by French knights eleven eighteen To save holy land from all misery Protecting the pilgrims and be their guide Soldiers of Christ, the temple knights Knights of the realm for two hundred years On Friday thirteenth their sign disappeared A king and a pope, envy and greed A cross and a crown let templar bleed
In the morning light All the temple knights Arrested by the king On this black Friday And the pope agreed Sealed the templar's destiny Damnation on its way On this black Friday
They were too mighty, famous and rich The pope feared their secrets, son of a bitch And their defaulter, Phillip the king He bears false witness, for suffering The order of poor fellow soldiers of Christ Ruined by filthy, ruthless bad lies Idolatry, heresy, sodomy, the charge of the church The order grand master, Jaques de Molay Repealed his confession, for torture and pain He cursed those infamous as he burned
On thirteen fourteen the templar were gone Their goods and their treasures Raped by the throne But the king and the pope, they had to pay Died by the curse of Jaques de MolayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
