Dead Gods

You prophesize the end of everything

And you beg for it with such heavenly pleasure

Your hungry eyes look to god himself

To destroy his supposedly pure and perfect creation

Strike me down

I'd rather die than submit

To your empty nothingness

Strike me down

I'd rather die than submit

To your sacred callousness

     

Dead gods make such shallow graves

Dead gods make such shallow graves

Blessed are the children in their sights

Even when they beg to not die of starvation

Your hungry eyes look on with disgust

As your liars tome will justify your own abomination

Bathe in the blood of the lamb

drown in the red with the damned

 

Strike me down

I'd rather die than submit

To your empty nothingness

Strike me down

I'd rather die than submit

To your sacred callousness

     

Dead gods make such shallow graves

Dead gods make such shallow graves