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Soreption
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March Of The Tyrants
Burning hatred*
Turning colder
Where blood boils to extinguish fear
Turn around, you're not welcome here
For all the torment I've spread
I've chosen you, even though you're reeking with fear
Turn around, you're not welcome here
When blood breeds joy,
Your kind devouring the dying dead. When blood breeds joy,
Cutting every inch of their sickened skin
When blood breeds joy,
The greedy become the elders
When blood breeds joy,
In here lies the dread
Pain
Even though the tides will turn
Events will come and people will burn
To all the tyrants and people like you
These words will echo through
In numbers you're unbearable
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Thrown together by a lust for deceit. Digesting the innocent
Before the lies turn into a feast
When blood breeds joy,
Your kind devouring the dying dead. When blood breeds joy,
Cutting every inch of their sickened skin
When blood breeds joy,
The greedy become the elders
When blood breeds joy,
In here lies the dread
Pain
Like in a void, you feel nothing
Constructed to stand yourself
Even though the tides will turn
Events will come and people will burn
To all the tyrants and people like you
Someday these words will echo through
In here lies the dread
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