| You called it down
|
| A bloody wrath
|
| A finger points to the distant horizon
|
| You try to scream
|
| With bulging eyes
|
| Your feet are frozen in your steady barren hole
|
| A blinding light
|
| A flash of heat
|
| Those who are there disintegrated immediately
|
| Melted masses with an idiots faith you fall
|
| Let it burn down
|
| All hallowed ground
|
| There are none that are exempt from this selection
|
| I wear m mark
|
| A wrinkled scar
|
| A wound that’s deep enough to call upon this judgment
|
| Your god is a fool
|
| And your prophet is doomed
|
| You think that soon you’ll awaken in the heavens
|
| As you burn alive with all your brethren
|
| And in this, the chosen have been cleansed
|
| Unaware of their time
|
| An eastern wind carries the sweet stench of decay
|
| May we mark it in flesh
|
| With none alive, you are the witness, I am the fire
|
| You are afraid, you should be, I am the burn
|
| Your searing pain, I know it well, I am the fire
|
| You are afraid, you should be, I am the burn
|
| I am
|
| Engulfing the pure
|
| Engulf the pure
|
| You can look inside yourself for the answers
|
| But you will never know the purity of this hour |