Through thickening fog, with powder as black as a crow's wing.
We do battle.
Our vengance in full swing.
We bludgen with fists.
We puncture with blades.
We're exulting, in what we call justice.
Is this truly justice?
Through thickening fog, with powder as black as a crow's wing.
We do battle.
Our vengance in full swing.
We bludgen with fists.
We puncture with blades.
We're exulting, in what we call justice.
Is this truly justice?
We've forsaken our innocence, massacared limitless people, maybe evil.
But is it really our place to deal out judgement and death?
Time doesn't give us the luxury needed to dwell on our sins, when a crack in the wall erupts and the sky falls apart.
Rage of countless unbroken hearts. '
Neath Lucifer's Shroud as it tears apart.
Rage of countless unbroken hearts. '
Neath Lucifer's Shroud as it tears...

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