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Iron the skin

Nurture the grave

The ground under your feet is nothing

But ashes and remains

Dry lungs spit dust

From another time

Circling the rumor

The end's around the corner

It's burnt on the wings of the flies

Carved on the tongues of the parasites

There are whispers and signs

It's far from over

It's time for new cries

For new blood

For new fire

When old fire

Is nothing but smoke

The old fire is cold

The wings of the flies

The tongues of the parasites

A protest is breath wasted

Yet the desperate will plead

The wings of the flies

The tongues of the parasites

Time eats like acid

A scythe through a weed

Throw the dice and it is done

Mathematics of the universe

Cut the hair you're hanging on

Spit the fated path right in the face

Walk on ashes of the gods

All that were and all to come

Born of stars, of blood and fire

If god is alone, man is alone

Alone on mountain

Alone in the sea

In vanity and pogrom of reason

In dread of growth past infancy

In fear of truth

In fear of vision

As all that can be will be done

In fear of greatness

And ambition

If god is alone, man is alone

Now

I fear nothing

For one day

It'll all get taken away