Far from reach, how the serpents preach

Life is a sin when the shepherds are breedin'

In the quiet place, force the mind to erase

As the people pray to the distant drummer

These are primitive times

These are primitive...

These are primitive times

No care, no less, divine surpass, be it manor

Ashes cover the man which the decades demand

And paves the way for the sick and the dyin'

The devil hides his tail behind the virgin's veil

So the dead can dance to a distant drummer

These are primitive times

These are primitive...

These are primitive times

No care, no less, divine surpass, be it manor

Ashes fall like rain as the blind go insane

The shepherds fall to the feet of their martyr

Baptize with gasoline, holy flames unholy scene

As the ashes rise to the distant drummer

These are primitive times

These are primitive...

These are primitive times

No care, no less, divine surpass be it man or ash

Not man or ash