Hooks of Hunger
He that hath eyes to see, let him see
And he that hath ears to hear, let him hear
The gospel of the great bleeding ahead
The rage of the unborn and
The wrath of the dead
For have we not sold their bonds
For shreds of false fulfillment?
Yes, we have sold their bonds for pleasure!
And we have sold their blood for hollow sounds of laud
Ancient holy essence for puffs of weightless gold
Yes wеightless is the coin of Satan
Weightlеss is its dead warmth
Would you know the Devil if Hell was a place of comfort?
Would you know damnation if Hell was a state of satisfaction?
In flames of risk-free battle, would you know the Devil
If Hell was a bed of unearned rest?
Would you know who to blame if Hell was
A ball of flesh kept in place with hooks of hunger?
He that hath eyes to see, let him see
And he that hath blood to bleed, let him bleed
For have we not sold our veins for barren chants of praise?
All that you hold must be paid for again
And again our scars must be counted
And again our truths must stand up and gird for war
All smiles must be measured and weighed on scales of woe
Would you know the Devil if Hell was a vault of latent deeds?
Would you know who to praise if Hell was
A wreath of lust torn from grace with hooks of hunger?
And he that hath ears to hear, let him hear
The gospel of the great bleeding ahead
The rage of the unborn and
The wrath of the dead
For have we not sold their bonds
For shreds of false fulfillment?
Yes, we have sold their bonds for pleasure!
And we have sold their blood for hollow sounds of laud
Ancient holy essence for puffs of weightless gold
Yes wеightless is the coin of Satan
Weightlеss is its dead warmth
Would you know the Devil if Hell was a place of comfort?
Would you know damnation if Hell was a state of satisfaction?
In flames of risk-free battle, would you know the Devil
If Hell was a bed of unearned rest?
Would you know who to blame if Hell was
A ball of flesh kept in place with hooks of hunger?
He that hath eyes to see, let him see
And he that hath blood to bleed, let him bleed
For have we not sold our veins for barren chants of praise?
All that you hold must be paid for again
And again our scars must be counted
And again our truths must stand up and gird for war
All smiles must be measured and weighed on scales of woe
Would you know the Devil if Hell was a vault of latent deeds?
Would you know who to praise if Hell was
A wreath of lust torn from grace with hooks of hunger?
Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Hans Johan Rosten
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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