the standard of the cult and snakes of thulsa doom in the spirit of vengeance i strike into the womb if the wolves will not stop me if the mountains are tame then who will stop my quest for fortune and for fame to the temple of flesh to the priests of false light in bereavement of strength in perversion of might the tree of wisdom i spill my blood upon crucified for vengeance and the spirit of crom sworn to fight and die for he who taught the riddle of steel to me for crom i light the pyre and cast my enemies into the fire time may swallow victory what matters not as trees grow tall so raise your swords today we fight standing proud few against all