| Dig yourself a shallow grave
|
| Your life is not the legacy of honor you would dig six feet for
|
| Broken is the way you came
|
| And broken is the way that you will leave when everything is paid for
|
| Make another hollow claim
|
| A fable of regurgitated nothing we could tear wide open
|
| False in every possible way
|
| Your god is still the powerless creation you will lose your hope in
|
| Now you bleed for the lord of hate
|
| That you stole from the pages of truth
|
| And separate the product from its own account
|
| To birth a gospel of inferior view
|
| Black reign is all in dream
|
| Your truth is absolution’s end
|
| Dead is the way you stake your life on
|
| The oblivious belief
|
| What a waste to sell your spirit for
|
| Dead is the way you stake your life on
|
| The oblivious belief
|
| What a waste to sell your spirit for
|
| Lay upon the bed you made
|
| Your word is not the legacy of truth that you would bet your life on
|
| Stand and face a mirrored blade
|
| And tremble in the wake of your conviction as you put your life on
|
| Now you bleed for the lord of hate
|
| That you stole from the pages of truth
|
| And separate the product from its own account
|
| To birth a gospel of inferior view
|
| Black reign is all in dream
|
| Your truth is absolution’s end
|
| Dead is the way you stake your life on
|
| The oblivious belief
|
| What a waste to sell your spirit for
|
| Dead is the way you stake your life on
|
| The oblivious belief
|
| What a waste to sell your spirit for
|
| This war is a page unwritten
|
| But we know how it ends
|
| Take a step to the throne, convicted
|
| Choking back your amends
|
| Cry the death of fiction kingdom
|
| Your truth is absolution’s end
|
| Dead is the way you stake your life on
|
| The oblivious belief
|
| What a waste to sell your spirit for |