You have been judged on your own accord
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Our final word seals your fate
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King of the Jews, the son of God
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Now condemned to death and hate
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INRI, INRI, false prophet
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Carry the cross upon your back
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And take it to where you'll die
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A crown of thorns, for you dear king
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With the other filth, be crucified
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INRI, INRI, false prophet
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Taste the blood that trickes from your ravaged brow
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As the sands of time run out
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Lord of nothing is what we consider you
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For victory is truly ours
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Now you die
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INRI (False Prophet)
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Acheron |