| Be it a bone or a broken staff
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| Crush hopes, make a shell of a man
|
| Cut down to the scars on our knees
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| I see you traitor!
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| Bound wounds packed with salt and clay
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| Drown in ash to take the taste away
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| Forged, crushed, forced to kneel
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| Torn nerves replaced with twisted steel
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| Another throne, our broken path
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| Lead her steady, hold her fast
|
| Steeds track through the crimson waves
|
| Guided by the blade
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| She’s nervous, trapped behind the lines
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| Of fear and filth and butchered lives
|
| A trigger in the hands of minds
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| Too young for graves to bind
|
| Divide the weak, spread suffering, dismay
|
| Be steady, hold all our restraint
|
| A storm of swords will rain upon the backs of broken men
|
| For us they pray, scattered in the aftermath
|
| Another bridge won’t save the trust we stripped from our first born
|
| This will won’t break, as iron strengthens iron
|
| Before dawn breaks the night we push on through the fog
|
| A place where cowards thrive and good men die like dogs
|
| Bite the tongue until you can’t ignore
|
| Blood in the mouth beats blood on the floor
|
| Weed out the weak to keep the bloodline pure
|
| Claw the lungs until they breathe no more
|
| A chalice held toward the sun to appease the hands that bind
|
| Our collective inner toil, spill poison on the mind
|
| We’re strengthened by iron, reduced to tears by pain
|
| I throw my hands deep into filth to find myself again
|
| Divide the weak, spread suffering, dismay
|
| Be steady, hold all our restraint
|
| Prepare yourselves!
|
| For a storm of swords to rain upon the backs of men
|
| For us they pray, scattered in the aftermath
|
| Another bridge won’t save the trust we stripped from our first born
|
| This will won’t break, as iron strengthens iron |