Cult of the Dead Son

Born in blood

War of ideas rage, Slaughter all Racing backwards

Corrupt piety

To the son of fiction

Cult of

the

À desert dream of death e

You made a cult

Cult of the dead son Who will kill more

Cult of the dead son

King of all false

Claim, a land sacred

Stained with blood

The ground sours Miasma ripens Corpses rot in the sun Like the thought of gods How pathetic you are To kill for dogma

Cult of the dead son Who will kill more

Cult of the dead son

King of all false

Dead Son

Who will be next to die? In the wake of your fragility Your might amounts to nothing A cancer waiting to devour itself Spreading decay among despair

We stand our ground and curse your name For no dead son will reign For no dead son will reign.

We renounce your son Dissolve your claim

Never has truth

Demanded blind faith We stand elevated

On smoldering embers Your church in ashes You made a cult

Cult of the dead son

Who will kill more Cult of the dead son King of all false

Cult of the dead son Who will kill' more

Cult of the dead son

King of all false