You never won, Necrophiliac A ghastly visage of some long dead whore You never won, You were never the victor Despite your spoils, you never won You
History counts its dead in round numbers, euphemisms and statistics? one thousand and one remains one thousand as though the one never existed. Faith
If you're born to be hanged, you will never drown If you're born to be hanged, you will never drown We are born naked, wet and hungry Then things only
Into a world of deadness, the dead march on Into a world of slumber, the dull march on Into a world of hunger, the full march on Into a world of slavery
A frigid chill, not of winter blows through hallowed lands. The mastermind of extermination? intervention as a business plan. A sickening feeling sates
In spite of the forces stacked against us, to spite the master plan Despite a sick and sinking feeling in the heart of every man Never lose your fucking
No love lost here No love lost here No funeral march, no sympathy No mourning cry No love lost here No tears will be shed For traitor found dead, bullet in head
They have already written my eulogy though I am still standing and I still breathe. No fear inside? no end in sight? I am not close to that endless night
Shat into this void, mind fucking racing Wheels fucking spinning before I ever hit the ground Intimidation, indignation A mountain in my path at every
Sacrifice your newborns to the vehemence of the machine Sacrifice your hours to the tick of the clock in the factory We, the bartered, the offering
This final scene I will not see to the end shadows from a fading sun blur into dusk my dream is fraying... A last sigh of relief since time began the
There is a war after war and rumors of war exploding from the east. There is a rumbling in the desert and there is talk about the beast. Mothers cry
Destroyer of worlds? swallower of lives? leveler of dreams? silencer of cries? seas of fire? rivers of blood? landscapes of ash, excrement, and mud?
All of my years have been a sick charade, trying to stop the clock and trying to end this parade. I got my funeral started a long time ago... Embalmed
A sacrament of the sick? devoured in the bestial lust, engorged in the remnants of a war that every victor lost. A sacrament of the sick? ingested
Life should not be measured in Increments of pain, increments of pain Suffered in that way of life That we choose to live, that we choose to live Stick
Know that our years are the years of war And our days are measured as battles And every hour is a life now lost To those strangers from without Who have
You cannot live without the shadow of death You beg and scream for someone else's help You cannot lengthen your life, you know that this is true If something
