---

Marching blindly to your own death

You are nothing without your god

I feed upon your weakness

And revel in the loss of your desires

As you wither in the shallowness of your own lie

I live so that you may die

Writhing in the filth of this paradise you have created

With the blood of the world on my hands

The sun will be bled of its light

And blasphemous night shall fall

In the dungeons of our tyrant

Torturing the guilty who preached piously

For he who has risen is destined to fall