To My Assailers
With every wish it's hit or miss
I saw him sit there carving her name across his arm
Slit wrists and drunk ballads derived the ego of a thousand Deaths
His sight brings fear that flinches at the chains' rattle
You know not what I need to survive
What you need to survive
I've seen the dimensions of life and Death
So cold, now they have become
The wish of your death
So now, in the curtain that calls the lost,
The colony will know my name
I will kill you all
Missionaries make the claim at the stake of the holiday
provoking only the worst from my alter
Not sure how much of this I can stand
No more of this I need
The Death of you all is coming soon...
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