---

Like Nechayev on the Ice

Corpse drifting in the deep

Lost in eddies of the Abyss

Dropsied reason fades to sleep

Sleep

By the rule of flame and lead

Where blood must water soil

To hope for promised bread

Yet for the sickle do they toil

Now reap!

My Brothers we've seen you fall

in the fields of Ukraine

Comrade can't you see

The Iron Curtain

was a Shroud

O! The Hammer of Belphegor!

By the Promise of Belphegor!

By the Cogs of Belphegor!

By the Thrashers of Belphegor!

Belphegor!

No Gods! No Masters!

The Syndicate burns the world in the Black Flames!

Neither God! Nor Master!

Just Ashes and the Crown which the Urn Contains!

Hungry hands those proletarians

Yet hungrier still industry's machine!

By the Hundred Million Heads

By the Propaganda of the Deed

We Raise the Flaming Toast

To bring Cosmos to his knees

No Gods! No Masters!

The Syndicate burns the world in the Black Flames!

No Gods! No Masters!

Just Ashes and the Crown which the Urn Contains!

Anangke! Erebus! Xaos! Anarchy!

Don’t you see!

Every Emancipator Has enslaved the Free!