Original lyrics
ENThe herds are wet with anticipation.
Cloned, deformed, perverted or malignant, they are waiting in infuscation.
The sects have found formation.
Each in and of their own power, they yearn for indefinite boundaries.
From every corner and every crevice they will emerge.
Innate capabilities formulate fiends.
For the slaughter they are eager.
Soon the pigs will feast.
From every corner and every crevice they will emerge for the final massacre.
The pigs will someday be the butchers.
