| We bear the mark of violence, crossed on our chest
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| We’re the worst of us — sick, twisted and broken
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| We came to rise above, but sank below
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| We’ve seen the way, of the cleansing fire
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| We claim the sacred stones, behold the truth in lies
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| We turn on our own, killing our kin
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| Cut out from hell — To be part of the divine
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| Broken the promise — To stay away from my demise
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| We tread our path in silence, a golden story unfold
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| We’re the voiceless, the godless endeavours
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| We’re the soul survivors, breathing down your neck
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| We came for the unguided, sacrificial lamb
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| We say it can’t be broken, the ghost inside you
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| We’re the ones who stand, undivided divided
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| Cut out from hell — To be part of the divine
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| Nothing is sacred — And you know it’s just for show
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| We’re the soul survivors
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| Breathing down your neck
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| We bear the mark of violence
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| Crossed on our chest
|
| Cut out from hell — To be part of the divine
|
| Broken the promise — To stay away from my demise
|
| Cut out from hell — To be part of the divine
|
| Nothing is sacred — And you know it’s just for show |