In the spirit of death
We enjoy departer's blood
In spirit of death
We joy rite of death

We dance
Under a howling trees we dance
and celebrate our pass by son
who's now enter the sky's arch

His will be now our will
His will is angry
His will until another one of our folk face the Beautiful moment by Weed

'What will we face now when discontented child is part of the ancient Creek gods'
People is frighten now, and they should be
The target of my vengeance

Look out, you see he's coming
with blade in her arms he is ready to slaughter the souls of tormentor, souls of innocent ingorange
Look out, you see he's coming
With a tear in her jowl
He now kill the last one, the precious one

No one is save anymore