They call themselves the Holy knights in red Wearing hoods and carrying swords? Holy blades in flames? Snorting rage and invoking names Opening wounds and terrible scars
To be burnt at the stake? Scythes and magic against the blades To refuse and never state? Witches, wizards, gypsies and all the atheists
From a hollow sanctuary Carrying out the sacred judgement? Spreading around the breath of the bonfire They condemn you to the Blood Sentence
Behind shields and unbreakable armors? Invading citadels and burning the infidels? Deprived of mercy or sacred license? Riding dark horses and abolishing insolence Hunting the villagers and killing without endeavor
They call themselves sanctified judges Like tyrants they also drain All that is different is a plague But blood sentence is real pain
To be bursting by the rage? Ploughs and spells against the raids To deny and never awake Intolerance, savage and an unforgivable fake
From a hollow sanctuary Carrying out the sacred judgement Spreading around the breath of the bonfire They condemn you to the Blood Sentence
Compositor: Música: Bil Martins. Letra: Ygor Gatti