Tekster: Acacia Strain, The. The Impaler.

We are the wolves who starve close to dying,
clinging to life for our actions to kill.
Prey on the weak and we listen for crying.
This is the closest we can bring you to hell.

We are the wolves who dress as the sheep,
never resting and refusing to sleep.
Leave no survivors, we devour the dead.
Scream all you can while we rip you to shreds.
While we rip you to shreds.

We destroy the things that make the world go 'round.
We are the reason there is blood on the ground.
Oh my god.

You'll survive but you won't want to.
You will live but you won't want to.
You shouldn't be outside in your condition.
She shouldn't be walking her condition.

We destroy the things that make the world go 'round.
We are the reason there is blood on the ground.

I have stolen innocence of humanity.
I can't forgive myself for the things that I've done.
I don't feel the least bit bad.
I won't apologize.
I'm not fucking sorry.