Cry Of The Celts - Ronan Hardiman

The holy cloth — the foul priest

The holy cross — hands that bleed

Unholy prayer — my sacrilege

A coward’s crown — my blasphemy

Cult of the dead

Curse the saviour, curse him until death

Cult of the dead

Curse the priest, until his last breath

The shepherd’s call, they congregate

The mindless herd, I desecrate

Flesh turned to bread, for us he died

Blood to wine, the sacred lies

Cult of the dead

Curse the saviour, curse him until death

Cult of the dead

Curse the priest, until his last breath

Cult of the dead

Curse the saviour, curse him until death

Torment of the flesh, submission to him

Church of damnation, heaven be denied

Fear of the beast, inevitable doom

Submission to sin

The heretic’s soul, in fire consumed

The prey like vultures on the masses

Of the living dead

The foul servants of the christ

The crucified son

Let him bleed till death

And spit on his rotting corpse

We celebrate the death of god

Pierce the side of christ again