Deep flows the stream 

Beneath the hills of Occident 

Dark as blood running through ages dim 

From beginning ´til the end 



In caves and grottoes spied 

Renounced, revered and scryed 

By men with dolch and bell 

Roma, Amor; the ill and well 



For good spirits of Europe 

Men come with staff and scepter alike 

With Tafur hordes, on horses high 



Paint the Devil on the wall 

Paint it black and paint it tall 

But as Montsegur endures 

There will be your light 

Oh Lucibel 

And when we shall burn alive 

With sulphur crowns shoot up the sky 

Then we shall be your light 

Oh Lucibel 



Pale is the horse 

Upon which sits merciful fate 

Crimson the hooves 

To trample fools beneath its gait 



Heretics and warlocks 

Their vernal equinox 

Gods suffered not by Rome 

Gods men know not 

Gods men forgot 



For good spirits of Europe 

Men come with cudgel and claymore alike 

With Tafur hordes, on horses high 



And it´s not the life that´s given 

But the death that´s taken 

When all that we´re worth is vanguished 

Damned and undone 

The good spirits of Europe 

Stand with Abraxas behind the sun 



We´ll burn in your fire, Lucibel 

Burn through the night, Lucibel 

Burn as the sun, Lucibel