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What is left for the weak willed,
Nothing for them in this world,
Cattle to the slaughter go,
Ground down into ash and bone.

Blessed are the meek they say,
My mind tends another way,
Man is just an animal,
The pacifist is pitiful.

Violence is a sacred rite,
From the womb you had to fight,
A vile, kicking, screaming thing,
The image of a human being.

Nature has its bloody games,
The price of life we all must pay,
A sacrifice to rouse the sun,
Nature's bloody work is done.

Deliberately enslaved by laws,
Made to serve our worthless gods,
Soul of man is left in chains,
The ones that crooked tyrants made.

Shed of our moral shame,
Now our primal instincts reign,
A misanthropic manifesto,
Every man is every man's foe.

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