| With undying hunber, a fathomless swarm of locusts
|
| As one, bottomless pit of gaping mouths
|
| Parasitical leaches scavenging, bleeding the host dry
|
| Black vulture wings extinguish the sun
|
| The day of reckoning awaits, I shall spare no one
|
| Master turns slave, the butcher himself becomes food for the rats
|
| Fields ripe with putrefaction without end, and for the dead
|
| No casket, no funeral, no mourning and no obituary
|
| Walk the streets of solitude paved with bodies of the dead
|
| Fear of dying stronger than the fear of life
|
| Refuge in the shadows a rusted monolith, forlorn amongst the ruins
|
| Bloodline broken
|
| These voices from beyond, gnawing the flesh from my bone
|
| Like a million voices screaming, draining the sanity from my soul
|
| In this sanctuary, your heaven. |
| with morphine in your blood to keep you safe
|
| From madness tearing, clawing at your skin from the inside
|
| In a haze through the grates, you witness the end
|
| Walk the streets of solitude paved with bodies of the dead
|
| Fear of dying stronger than the fear of life
|
| Refuge in the shadows a rusted monolith, forlorn amongst the ruins
|
| Over cemetery fields, the last of manking
|
| Dethrone monarch in the kingdom of the dead
|
| In no man’s land, as despair has conquered his fear
|
| Broken like his the bloodline is |