From the womb of Coatlicue, his wrath was born,
A serpent's fire, the god of war adorned.
Feathered crown, obsidian blade in hand,
His altar drinks the lifeblood of the land.
Skulls pile high beneath the eagle's cry,
The sun ascends, but who must die?
In hearts of men, his thirst remains,
Huitzilopochtli, the lord of slain.
Raise the blade, spill the wine of veins,
Sacred blood feeds celestial flames.
To the zenith of death, his shadow climbs,
Huitzilopochtli reigns in war-torn hymns.
Raise the blade, spill the wine of veins,
Sacred blood feeds celestial flames.
To the zenith of death, his shadow climbs,
Huitzilopochtli reigns in war-torn hymns.
Crimson rivers flow through Tenochtitlán's core,
Chants echo to the heavens, a warrior’s roar.
The Fifth Sun bleeds, trembling in its might,
For in its shadow dwells eternal night.
A thousand hearts ripped in offering pure,
Eternal war, the only cure.
Quetzalcoatl's whispers drowned by screams,
In the smoke and ash of shattered dreams.
Skulls pile high beneath the eagle's cry,
The sun ascends, but who must die?
In hearts of men, his thirst remains,
Huitzilopochtli, the lord of slain.
Raise the blade, spill the wine of veins,
Sacred blood feeds celestial flames.
To the zenith of death, his shadow climbs,
Huitzilopochtli reigns in war-torn hymns.
(Huey Tlatoani)
(Huey Tlatoani)
(Huey Tlatoani)
(Huey Tlatoani)
In the twilight of the gods, his fire burns,
Through broken worlds, the cycle turns.
The obsidian dawn shall never fade,
Huitzilopochtli, in death, we are made.
Raise the blade, spill the wine of veins,
Sacred blood feeds celestial flames.
To the zenith of death, his shadow climbs,
Huitzilopochtli reigns in war-torn hymns.