holy fire

Oaken doors silence cries of mercy

At the inquisitor's fiendlishness

Souls now broken lie in his clutch

The state of grace no longer lasts

All who denies the truth revealed

Whether he be king or commoner

Is robbed of wealth, sanity and life

While angels guard these pious duties


Red rivers flow out of sinful bodies

Senescent is the heretic?s strength

Celestial whips shall purgate all disbelieve

The Inquisition, with God, reigns



Burned in sacred ceremony cause

They could not see the living light

Holiness has made them martyrs

Beneath the Bergamot they lie