Tekst:
Arkhon Infaustus Filth Catalyst

Aeons born through the prismatic chaos, the path turns in circles around the void Eternal renewal of the border we seek, sorrow bore whore, we create

God, reversal reverence Here among the ashes of this world's morality, assembled from filth the rats become lords A council of foul gods in filth we

from the womb engraved reeking putrid semen elevation toward the light The limpid blood of the surrounding stream frees the lumbs enforced with filth

stands and claims the rights of the flesh Hear the riders hurt in the three locks of the circle I am the claws of the filth, prophesising the past Praying