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Our ancient cult from a bygone age

Tenets spoken, never seeing the page

Devout beliefs of the warrior class

Passed through the ages in our mithraea

They called a gathering in Nicea

Constantine and his council of bishops

The decision was made to define our faith as heathen

and expel us from their lands

Oh the madness

To expunge the unconquerable sun

They've desecrated all our idols and left them to decay

The lion headed, entwined by serpents

Symbol of time destroyed

How does it taste? The rotten fruit off rotting trees

Open rebellion floods the street

Violence seeps into everything

Iconoclastic forces gather in the fray

Vengeance be my name

I will not bow to your false prophet

Return me to the soil again

A tale of loss and tragedy

Proliferation of catastrophe

They called a gathering in Constantinople

Theodosius and his ecumenical council

The final nail, those united by the hand shake besieged

Gone are the feasts in our sacred caves

They are but ruins, left to disintegrate

The lion headed, entwined by serpents

Symbol of time destroyed

How does it taste? The rotten fruit off rotting trees

Open rebellion floods the street

Violence seeps into everything

Iconoclastic forces gather in the fray

Vengeance be my name

I will not bow to your false prophet

Returned to the soil again

I slayed the bull

Non Serviam

I slayed the bull

Non Serviam