| The creation of kind has an origin gospel screeching to the heavens |
| The choir waits for no morsel being, and the anthem of challenge cries on |
| But no gospel is made without bronze, and to become the choir... |
| You must first become bronze |
|
| You walk down a road where the devil would meet his apostles who lie |
|
| You walk down a road where the devil would meet his apostles who lie |
| An impulsive metronome bangs deep and without armour you're a lamb for the |
| slaughterhouse |
| So without a doubt |
| Take another rout |
| Free from the anarchy and self-debauchery |
|
| It takes courage to admit it |
| It takes the will of a warrior to fulfill it |
| For mortal being has a limit |
| Collect yourself and barricade |
| Start an accolade |
| Take arms and serenade ourselves with renegade |
|
| You've been cruel to yourself for far too long |
| But now you've got yourself to thank for strength of God |
|
| The molten furnace |
| Helms beneath the surface |
| Pull it out like your soul is bleeding |
| The anvil beating |
| Bringing down the ceiling |
| Just let it out and you'll find |
| You are now bronze |
|
| You walk down a cold set of stairs |
| And you meet with the cost of reprise |
| A repulsive catacomb beats harder than sin |
| There's no win before the scars come to life |
|
| It takes eyes to believe it |
| It takes the chains on the floor to make you all quit it |
| For mortal soul has to win it |
| Deprive the source from cavalcades |
| Don't let them open gates |
| Locked out of tyranny, fortified by alchemy |
|
| The molten furnace |
| Helms beneath the surface |
| Pull it out like your soul is bleeding |
| The anvil beating |
| Bringing down the ceiling |
| Just let it out and you'll find |
| You are now bronze |
|
| The curtains fading |
| The dark has been invaded |
| You've buried underneath |
| For far too long |
| So push back harder |
| Make them holy martyr |
| They seethe the day that you find |
| You are now bronze |
|
| The chest pumps, climbing the crevasse |
| Down the hole with a fire inside |
| To rebuild, broken by the hills |
| Wayning on the ones who lied |
|
| And to think, they thought they had you on the ground |
| But I believe they far to high in the sky |
| Talking ass doomed to die |
| You're swallowed hole by the dawn |
| You broke your skin for too long |
| We carve the scars of your past into bronze |
|
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| I want you to fucking |
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| I want you to fucking |
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| I want you to fucking |
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| Heave ho |
| Head held up high you're now bronze |
|
| The molten furnace |
| Helms beneath the surface |
| Pull it out like your soul is bleeding |
| The anvil beating |
| Bringing down the ceiling |
| Just let it out and you'll find out you are stronger than |
| Hope relied on given time made shelter for titans in song |
| It's your time you have grown up fast |
| Now gaze at what you have become |
| You are now bronze |
|
| You are now bronze |
|