Tribe burn the wicked
Born mutilated
You're cursed, before, your day
Dark ages haunt you
Turn to the maker
Embrace, your death, your own
Left for dead, out in the dark, a price will be paid.
Scrape, scratch, crawl, claw, my wrath will be felt.
Consumed with hatred
You dead from within
The cursed will be pained
Misdirected hate
I am the common outcast
No contribution
To your retribution
Your own, your own, your own
Blind satisfaction
You die in disgust
You choke, your blood, you're dead