All of the Gods children they all have to die Pauper to King sworn enemies to kin From men without sin to those with the beast within The grave is absolute, the grave is all O, Death where are your teeth That gnaw on the bones of fabled men O, Death where are your claws That haul me from the grave Do you have justice to trump the divine To steal the sanctity from their sermon Reduce to ash, writing of piety And conquer the lords word I think you do Do you bring fear to the hearts of heathens When your breath is upon their necks And the Gods will not answer And the sun is no longer in the sky O, Death I am not ready for the grave So turn your steeds around and loosen your reins I am not one for the tomb So rise my brothers, rise from your graves Throw your shackles off and stand by my side So rise my brothers, rise from your graves No grave is deep enough to keep us in chains
Posted on: Mon, 08 Dec 2014 17:59:53 +0000
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