| Stack the bodies, count the cards, no freedom from the end. No trump card when in trench wars are fought, we are Hero's of heresy, heretics coming together in a click of the gun, a ting of the steel, weapons, death, destruction, war, hate, rage, peace, love. Come on, lets be real, make them feel what we feel. Feel me! Hear me! back to the front war is here! Die when war is so much better, you are blind, you are benign you are nothing to me, just a puppet of participation, I'll order you into the ground, make those viens bulge as you learn the ropes, no you can't be like the rest of the dopes. Stack the burning bodies until they touch Heaven, and then the blinking eye of inspection can survey the war, our games, our names, our roles in life, we are parts, gears, no fears, just names that are in a game, place some blame, but we still kill, point the finger, we're still trying, blind boy, you want to be in the war, you don't even see why we kill, fight for freedom, fight for pussy, fight for blood, fight for murder number one. We kill to kill. We steal to steal, Nothing more than Legal criminals, free from our shackles, lets hang those fuckers, let build a tower of destruction, lets keep this going and fucking going until the end of time. Rack the roster of soldiers, keep count of the dealers boney hands, its the only way to tell, Hell is here, we were born to die, we were born to kill, we were born to find violence a thrill Lets go fucking insane in our power hungry nature, we must keep the stack riseing, keep killing until God accepts our sacrafices, our guns our weapons are our Jesus, they will save us, we will serve our hunger well. We will save ourself from Hell. We will find brutal occupation. We will not leave another killer behind, he must be with us when we win! |
