demand demean your foes the stench of fear is rising
the folk the fools the flies that buzz they fuss and cling to words to words like dirt that works its way in cracks that spread throughout the face and deep into the hole that pit where once dared beat a heart now rots now hates now loathes in absolute disgust
disgrace decry the earth itself if ever it dared to turn against the tide that ...drags at the future ...drowns us with greatness
a man beyond a man a man who bore a movement like a drill into the head of peace a movement of god for only god could wreak this vengeance
a rising fist towards the living the dying awake and free from the shackles of hope be the seething the writhing hurt the ending that we deserve the scheming the lying the promise that hate will smother the truth is this seething this writhing hurt
he reaches down inside there’s nothing there to grasp a vacuous existence a ravenous demand for power strangles every action consumes his every breath the viciousness propels him to the point he wishes that there never has to be an ending detests the worth of peace reminds him of his worthlessness beyond the world of conflict and bereft manipulation he wallows in despair unsure of how to soothe his swollen ego he screams out
see the collapse of all people feel the dead grip of decay hear the last gasp of this era taste the sour air of defeat smell the rot leap from our leaders know the dread freezing them cold rocks line the cliffs of the future’s shore to the edge we march and hell belowTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.