The day where an error was born upon the Earth
Until the human power transpierces his heart
This surrounding plague which haunts us, nights by nights.
Can it be the death that raped that bastard-god light?
Militia Pestis—they say that I am insane, but they are wrong.
Militia Pestis—those whores will pay of their own blood
If you cannot speak more extremely than death
If you do not want to survive lonely exploitation
If you do not feel the fear of killing the human health
If you have as only wishes to see the extermination
Militia… Militia…
Militia Pestis—they say that I am insane, but they are wrong.
Militia Pestis—those whores will pay of their own blood
Only one pill the hearts burst, the rats died
The abrasions, the rain is brought under a volcano of hope,
Which moment where each one dreams to finally kill the pope
Second chance to bash the descendants slaves hands-tied
Looking for the dark cassocks, those keeping bedsides slings
Always truly received God false, monastic smashing
Thy bleed-slaughters on rock keeps intensely head molesting
Inflate the limbs by gorgeous infested chirpy path walking
Militia… Militia…
Militia Pestis—they say that I am insane, but they are wrong.
Militia Pestis—those whores will pay of their own blood
Life is on the black, credible ones cease believing in it
To curse Christians who in blowjob exchanges generate hell
Let's send them to be fucked, execrated and gutted slit
I want to see the red, before night either felt.
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