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paralyzed, inclement weather above me
I'm prepared to die
front row seats in this death machine
form of suicide
it might as well be, no one here
will leave alive, none survive

sweat and tears, flow down my face,theirs no disgrace
in showing some fear
when faced with death, theirs no regrets
armageddon's near
no compromise to justify
what happens here, that much is clear

welcome to apocalypse now kill

but what are a million deaths? when one has served in war,
one hardly knows what a dead man is after a while.
and since a dead man has no substance unless one has actually seen him dead,
a hundred million corpses broadcast through history are no more than a puff of smoke in the imagination.

so i lay here mangled bodies surround me
the blood thirst quenched
pools should suffice, for this sacrifice
no time to repent
although i knew, i just slew and slew
to my discontent my life is spent

my breath comes cold, a rain of fire to finish
what has to be done
with millions dead, a world filled with dread
and my mind now gone
a wasted life, for some foolish pride
it all goes numb, what have we won?

shrouded, endless massacres come still.

kill.

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