Drink the dirt and eat soil, For I command to do so. I hold your throat, you're so weak. Now prostrate and pray to the tyrant. Your every movement's so constricted, There is nowhere to run. I control all your thoughts, you're restricted Your cries are my fun.
(and you will obey, will gladly carry the weight)
Hear the crack of the whip? The fear of it will put you to sleep. Millions of bent spines, That's what I crave, my will is divine. I grant you the wreath of barbed wire, My soul is cold, and I start the fire By torching down slaves, flame's so vibrant. Down on your knees and pray to the tyrant!
(and you will obey, will gladly carry the weight)
My soul is so cold, I'm getting too old. My veins are empty and everyone sees How the madness is getting its hold of me. My masters are dead, all dead. My crown's shining red By the blood of the ones that stood on my path And doubted the authority I held.
March towards, spread the angst. Shut the doors, and release the Pest. Along with Famine it paves the way For the War and Death to take all away. So I sit on the throne, encrusted in teeth and made of bones. I don't care if I'm all alone, the world is empty and I hold it all.
My rule's eternal! I hear no one against! My rule's eternal! The monarch of wasteland. Pray to the Tyrant!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.