Arise legions of the damned I command revenge Hark, the winds of war are howling Turn your other cheek to peace, embrace the slaughter and the glory of war Rituals of fire and slaughter of the lamb are at hand Full throttle warfare speeds through the boundaries of peace Raging rivers of blood crush the last bastion of man Priests in mass pray for war to cease But only meet the rage and steel of the damned The scales never balance, always have they tipped Never in goof favor, never for the weak The horizons alight with fith fire, blackening the sky A trophy sculped in treachery forever mounted amidst our victory Bodies piled in lines, like the dying of a family tree Marks the length and breadth of our depravity As for the rage of men, that would undo the earth one thousand times ten The wolrd becomes their burial, the capital city for lifes denial And in the thickening black, the light of the stars the smoke attacks, See the false horizon rise, the burning aftermath of mass genocide
fith, sculped, slaughter, goof, war