Struck within
The lies of discretion
Practicing the formulas
To slave the creation
The lowly sand we trumble on
Burning down the bastard son
The image of the serpent
The onward march
Of feeble human race
Never thought
The fall through the disgrace
It lies inert
Dead amid the ruins
Until the time has come
To face your life in ruins
The lowly sand we trumble on
Burning down the bastard son
The image of the serpent
Enslave than liberate!
The lowly sand we trumble on
Burning down the bastard son
The image of the serpent