| Roll over, sit, stay
|
| Roll over, sit, stay
|
| They have unleashed the bloody flock
|
| Fierce, black hounds are getting mad
|
| I hear the beast behind my back
|
| And stench comes from its maw
|
| The baying of berserks with each right paw upraised
|
| They’re painted red in blood
|
| The march of curs to trample their own truth
|
| To chase all crows of white
|
| No breath for those who dare to disagree
|
| One path, one past, one trust
|
| Loyal dogs, unfailing tool
|
| They do what they have been trained to
|
| With the eidolons, the minds are full
|
| The evil ghosts of old
|
| The evil ghosts of old
|
| Insanity turns back at last
|
| As soon as their food is done
|
| And dog will raven dog
|
| The claws crush bones, the claws crush bones
|
| Claws crush bones, claws crush bones
|
| Claws crush bones, claws crush bones
|
| The one who disobeys
|
| He learns a cruel lesson of bones and stones
|
| Your dissidence objected
|
| And it’s a basic skill to earn
|
| Sit, stay, roll over
|
| Sit, stay, roll over
|
| Sit, stay, roll over
|
| Sit, stay
|
| The march of curs to trample their own truth
|
| To chase all crows of white
|
| No breath for those who dare to disagree
|
| One path, one past, one trust
|
| One path, one past, one trust
|
| One path, one past, one trust
|
| One path, one past, one trust
|
| It’s not one’s path, it’s not one’s past, it’s not one’s trust
|
| It’s not my path, it’s not my past, it’s not my trust
|
| Devouring meat of those right paws upraised
|
| The flock has gone
|
| They fressed themselves
|
| Devouring meat of those right paws upraised
|
| The flock has gone
|
| They fressed themselves
|
| They fressed themselves
|
| They fressed themselves |