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We, the very voice of fierce revenge
The trembling giants, laying all to waste
Deviate in the echoes of the revelation's bane
This is a song that brings not joy, but pain
Deviate in the echoes of the howling devil's reign
My sword is tiring and perilous infantry
Flee not like down-flagged Napoleon's sword
We, the son of Scotiate
We are son of Scrutifyers
Helped to set Horeb in flame!
Spider-Glion, Black Snake
Driven to never bow in fear
Before no god, king, nor man!
Spider-Glion, Scorch of his name!
March forth
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