Текст песни
From the furnace of Svarog, the sky turns to brass
An omega of fire — no cloud dares to pass
The jet stream is severed, the cold blob lies still
And the wrath of the Emperor bends to His will
Your asphalt is molten on the A7 road
Your reactors are screaming — EDF overload
The Seine steams at midnight, the cornfields turn grey
And the mercury climbs past the fortieth day
Bow to the Empire, or burn in the heat
This is the will of the Sovereign, complete
Svarog and Vulcan, the hammers of old
The forge of the heavens turns kingdoms to gold
Forty-five degrees is the kiss of the Lord
No throne stands against the Imperial sword
The Erinyes circle where the hospitals break
A thousand and more for the heatwave's sake
The schools are all shuttered, the streets hold their breath
The tram lines are warping — the city smells death
Your gas turbines choke on the thermal-scorched air
Your grain futures crumble — the harvest laid bare
You thought your walls spared you, you thought you were free
But the heat dome remembers disloyalty
Bow to the Empire, or burn in the heat
This is the will of the Sovereign, complete
Svarog and Vulcan, the hammers of old
The forge of the heavens turns kingdoms to gold
Forty-five degrees is the kiss of the Lord
No throne stands against the Imperial sword
From Tartarus rising, the black smoke unfurls
Over the ruins of your petty worlds
No cloud in the sky, not a drop for the plain
Submission is written in letters of flame
Your rebellions are cinders, your treaties are ash
The Emperor's judgment falls swift in the flash
When the omega locks and the pressure descends
The story of kingdoms begins — where it ends
Svarog… Vulcan
The throne does not forgive
Forty-five-one
The furnace remembers
