True ruler of men He need not a crown A womb of decay A world it spat down
Feral, untamed Sons to the ape Slaves to their doom Slaves to their fate
The beasts that were chosen To stir in the ground Alas! They shake the sky! These arms are not wings These men are not birds Take flight, the storm is nigh
Feral, untamed Sons to the ape They fall off the earth Moths to the flame
Feral, untamed Sons to the ape Slaves to their doom Slaves to their fate
And you can't bear a god But you can raise one by men To be lowly and vain To be just like one of them
And you can't kill a god But you can sell one to fools To be eaten alive Crucified by their tools