Rotting Christ - Sanctus Diavolos

Ìáêáñéïé åóôå ïé
ôïëìçñïé
Ìáêáñéïé åóôå ïé
áìáñôùëïé
Ìáêáñéïé åóôå ïé
äéáöïñåôéêïé
Åïõóïõ äïêåé
Ìáêáñéïé åóôå ïé
êáôáñáìåíïé
Ìáêáñéïé åóôå ïé
êõíçãïé
Åíüò ïíåéñïõ
ðñáãìáôéêïé

Áèáíáôïé åóôå ïé
äõíáôïé
Áèáíáôïé åóôå ïé
åñìçôéêïé
Áèáíáôïé åóôå ïé
ôñáãéêïé
Åï óïõ äïêåé
Áèáíáôïé åóôå ïé
ñïìáëïé
Áèáíáôïé åóôå ïé
ôïëìçñïé
Ïäïéðïñïé ôùí
áéóèçóåùí
ðñáãìáôéêïé

And when the bells of fate sound
Digging your soul deep into the ground
Setting your sense to the bound
Spreading your eminence all around
And when the bells of fate sound
You walk in pathless ways till the dawn
Screaming for salvation so loud
Spreading your indulgence all around

And when the bells of fate sound
Then you immortals stand up and shout
Then you blessed martyrs doubt
Here comes a new age's blow

Slaves of fate instigate
And feel your sword's blazing edge
Your section to the enemy
Wound for the sleepy age
Slaves of fate instigate
And feel your sword's blazing edge
Your section to the enemy
Wound for the sleepy age