Progenial Martyrdom

My subconscious state of being fused with the horrors of which my eyes perceive
When does tomorrow begin when the hurt of yesterday has yet to leave
The smallest likelihood of seeing tomorrow
The desecration of all those who flee
A violent detrimental time for our species
They cannot run

Walls are black
Sanctuary of sleep hasn't found its way
Obfuscated state of mind
This nightmare, not confined to night

My brothers and my sisters painfully stripped of their essence
Their bones become shrouded in smoke
Making martyrs of the young as the ash coats my lungs
Over my shoulder, they rain from above
Love will prevail, but no love will ever undo this hell

Level the lands
Carpet bomb the sands
No one gets out
Blood will soak all hands
Progeny be damned
Bloodline complete
Killing the weak
Cull the meek
There is no savior on the path you seek

Indiscriminate
Hate

You're far too late
You better hope they open the gates as I kiss this seal on your fate

The victor writes the story (the victor writes the story)
Tomorrow's youth will celebrate (celebrate)
If a bomb drops in the forest, does it make a sound (in the forest, does it make a sound)
A sound only the dead will know



Credits
Writer(s): Spencer Brown, Mike Mazury, Ian Docherty
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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