Lyrics:

Far from reach, how the serpents preach
Life is a sin when the shepherds are breedin'
In the quiet place, force the mind to erase
As the people pray to the distant drummer

These are primitive times
These are primitive...
These are primitive times
No care, no less, divine surpass, be it manor

Ashes cover the man which the decades demand
And paves the way for the sick and the dyin'
The devil hides his tail behind the virgin's veil
So the dead can dance to a distant drummer

These are primitive times
These are primitive...
These are primitive times
No care, no less, divine surpass, be it manor

Ashes fall like rain as the blind go insane
The shepherds fall to the feet of their martyr
Baptize with gasoline, holy flames unholy scene
As the ashes rise to the distant drummer

These are primitive times
These are primitive...
These are primitive times
No care, no less, divine surpass be it man or ash

Not man or ash