These white doves
They embrace divinity
Surpassing the deluge
I am the night and I am the savior
For all things rotten
The scourge of compulsion

Behold the enigma
Hear the voice of treason
Banishing the stigma
Season after season

crise!
cs I sit upon this oaken throne
crise!
For certainty to be told

I don the black cloak of superiority
I am the embodiment of high purity
For I am chosen and I am not broken
The oath is solemn, timeless!

The time has come
So pale, this vision of death
Seven days, till we reach the gallows
Whilst forever, clad in darkness!