Kill !

I won't lose my faith
I want to die for your blood and for your seeds
I won't lose my pride
I want to kill everyone and everywhere

Dig out the hatchet of the purgatory
How pretty well it‘s handled
Wave around and hit them to ground
Let the sharp edge sing
Rivulets of blood-red juice
Makes me, The Tool, thirsty
The more I swing, the more the hatchet sings
The funeral song of Presence

Falling to the ground – the rain of purified
Red blossoms and it's leaves – they decayed for their disease

Dig out the hatchet of the purgatory
How pretty well it‘s handled
Wave around and hit them to ground
Let the sharp edge sing
Rivulets of blood-red juice
Makes me, The Tool, thirsty
The more I swing, the more the hatchet sings
Funeral - song of Presence

I am the tool of Gaia
I am here to clear
I am the tool of Gaia
So listen the Funeral song of Presence

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