Sanctus - Antaeus

Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus

Te deprecamur magum redemptorum

Benediction benediction

Breathing from the wrath of the cup of God

Curse unto thee, thou flesh of these hands

For hast thou not hid me from salvation?

Curse and thorns… the deserved reward

For thou has fructified the whore of doubt

Therefore hell hath enlarged herself

And opened her mouth

Without measure

And their glory, and their multitude

And the pomp, and he that rejoiceth

Shall descend into it

De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine

At last I have learned the love of thy ways

The salt and the needles and the nails of my eyes

Come now Lord!

Make me whole

Hooks of light, hooks of sight

The path to redemption craves for pain again

Curse and thorns… the deserved reward

Fire of flesh, fire of skin… purification!