I roam the mountain. Under cover of night.
Burning my bridges, I surrender the fight.
You're the nails in my coffin; you're the cold judging stare.
Pleading for salvation, ain't my cross to bear.
It ain't my cross
Ain't my cross to bear
The fall of the wicked, brings prophetic fear.
The wrath of the righteous, the lines become clear.
Pound the nail in my coffin, and cast that cold judging stare.
No chance for salvation, it ain't my cross to bear.
It ain't my cross
Ain't my cross to bear.
Doctrine of poison, martyrs of fear.
The call of the chosen, the ends drawing near.
You're the oak of my coffin; you're the earth on my grave.
Our last chance for salvation, our souls to be saved.