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By the light of a black candle,
True and fervent devotee, channel
The Dead, litanies have been heard
Prayers for revenge are answered
Whispered in front of the altar
Will your flame ever get dimmer ?

A strange keen desire to feel
God and Death at your side
Praying, longing for a blood tide
Worship is Death's sharpening steel

Godmother wield Her Blessed Scythe
And all your enemies shall writhe
Let us hope they all die ! Revenge !
Granted by the Deathly Queen's bench

Into the house of Darkness
Even the dead freeze their carcasses

Burning powder on a virgin vellum
The crack of the divine flagellum
… Which will burst the sinners' flesh…

The sound of Death storming the town
Blood spatters on Her wedding gown
Here's the soundest kind of Justice
In a land entangled in evil and fierceness

Waft the smoke across the altar
And pray
Pray, for Her divine flame won't falter

With your oblation, She feels delighted
In your heart, a black candle is alighted

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