Оригинален текст
Man and his faithful ethics
Intoxicated by the fruits of the earth
Diabolical fanatikism, so cold and grim
The perfect perversion, incarnate
As instruments of torture
And leaving no room for sympathy
We bring forth the monstrous birth
To the worlds light
All great art is made from suffering
And so are we
Good in nature, but evil by our own free will
Incestuously created by the will to kill
Time is here to walk the final abyss march
Bound to the force of the last holocaust
Pour free the gifts of grace
And slaughter the entire human race
Not permitted to redemption
When pain rises high in purgatory
A reality so convincingly justified
Feeding from Death Cult's gown
We bring forth monstrous birth
To the worlds light