Ignis Fatuus

Ripped from the pages of our history
Forged like the irons in the fires of belief
There is no cure for what lurks beneath
Only the ashes that fall to our feet

Up in the hilltops and into the sky
Over the cities affliction is nigh
In souls of the robbed and hearts of the meek
The weight of the fearful and all the trouble they seek
Look in the eyes, eyes of the dead
Spilled over pages of lies they were fed

But there is no country, there is no creed
There is no future, no future I see
Without the death and the devil beneath
Without the red delta tributaries
Only the fury behind our clenched teeth
The hiss of the wicked wildfires we seethe
So look in the eyes, the eyes of the dead
Comfort the children awake in their beds
For we are the killer claiming the cure
Feigning the dogma of a history impure

So how do we heal a puncture so deep
Ripped from the pages of the history we keep



Credits
Writer(s): Zack Fletcher
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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