The insurrection shall now begin against the mass
The rabble to be graced with my spit,
The stones upon which I shall tread upon to reach my destiny
No longer shall I welter in sorrow
No longer shall weakness be sustained
Raise high the blood-drenched banners of war
Raise high the diadems of the conquerors of this world

Onwards march to victory
No longer shall destiny elude
No pity, no mercy
The weak trampled under cloven hoof
I am the weapon of bloodshed
I am the instrument of victory

And I shall not bow my head
And I shall not be conquered

For that of which I speak is already heard
And with the insurrection we shall bring an age
When the mightiest of beasts, the Man-God
Shall rightfully rule the world again
The human weakness shall be crushed
And warrior virtues upheld again
For it is deeds that shall smash empty words
And it is of wars that we shall create new worlds