The heart of others hell
Knife at the throat the flames fed by the faithful
Where eyes are scorched of hope
Blasphemer burned beheaded
From a far we are slaves from near we are less
Struggle to feed we perish or bleed
Feeding on their own they are horror
Where order is murder
Faith is the bullet
The zealot pulse beats and bays for blood
Where eyes are scorched of hope
Blasphemer burned beheaded
From a far we are slaves from near we are less
Struggle to feed we perish or bleed
Feeding on their own they are horror
Take our land take our lives
All in the name of gods and pride
We perish or bleed
Descend in to the maw of the darkest madness
Tear your own flesh
Hope is silent to the helpless
They are horror (they are horror)
Left with no hope no faith
For others wars his son was slain
Where eyes are scorched of hope
Blasphemer burned beheaded
Blasphemer burned or beheaded
From a far we are slaves from near we are less
Struggle to feed we perish or bleed
Feeding on their own they are horror