Evil sick flames cast uncertain shadows
In the dimly lit Temple of Anhur
As we count the dead and vanquished
By hacking off their Phalluses and piling the severed hands
Before the living stone image of God
The shamed and humbled women of the subjugated
Kneel in hopeless aquiescence
As we grasp them by the hair and force them to serve
Our father Anhur
Yea we impale them on the massive stone member
Of the Ithyphallic War God until
The backs of their throats are torn out
And their Bowels are ripped apart
One by one we force the female captives to serve the Ahati
Until the Gods legs are awash with blood
And his phallus drips with red and black gore
Un snem sheth tesher mekhsefu parthal m aba neth Anhur
We lay our bloodstained weapons of Iron
On the Altar of Anhur
And His Seed blesses us with strength to slay our enemies
Like as unto Menthu we have become Ithyphallic
The mighty Sekhmet is with us