I stand alone in this desolate space. In death they are
truly alive.
Massacred innocence, evil took place. The angels were

burning inside.

Centuries later I wonder why. What secret that they

took to their grave.
Still burning heretics under our skies. Religion still
burning inside.


At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.

At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the

stones of the citadel.
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.


As we kill them all so god will know his own. The
innocents died for the pope on his throne.

Catholic greed and its paranoid zeal. Curse of the
grail and the blood of the cross.


Templar believers with blood on their hands. Joined in
the chorus to kill on command.
Burned at the stake for their soul's liberty. To stand

with the Cathars to die and be free.

The book of old testament crippled and black. Satan his

weapon is lust.
Living this evil damnation of flesh, back to the
torture of life.

The perfect would willingly have died at the stake and
all of their followers slain.
As for the knowledge of god they had claimed. Religion

still burning inside.

At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the

stones of the citadel.
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.

At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the

stones of the citadel.

As we kill them all so god know his own. The innocents

died for the pope on his throne.
Catholic greed and its paranoid zeal. Curse of the
grail and the blood of the cross.


Templar believers with blood on their hands. Joined in
the chorus to kill on command.

Burned at the stake for their soul's liberty. Still
burning heretics under our skies.


As we kill them all so God WILL know his own. Laugh at
the darkness and in God we trust.
The eye of the triangle smiling with sin. No passover

feast for the curse of within.

Facing the sun as they went to their grave. Burn like a

dog or you live like a slave.
Death is the price for your soul's liberty. To stand
with the Cathars and to die and be free.


At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.

At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the

stones of the citadel.
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur. Blood on the
stones of the citadel.