The arcane, old god polishes his golden throne
Tells himself he will not tolerate our ignorance
Tired and bitter he dreams of retaliation
And plots for the next act of god

I will drown you
I will burn you
I will delete you from the grim surface of the world!

There is no comfort to gain from the golden throne
His utopia will soon be established
A desert ruled by thunder and acid rain
Tired and obsessed he smiles

I must drown you
I must burn you
I must delete you from the grim surface of my creation!