|
Howling tracks of hell they're coming, black storm on the rise. |
|
They fill our temples with their lies. |
|
The snakes come slithering, |
|
Anarchy, |
|
Chaotic hunters rise, |
|
Spit in their evil eyes. |
|
Stand our ground with hate and fury; fear that comes will die. |
|
Our enemies have come to life, |
|
Now they exalt the fiend, |
|
Shotgun. |
|
Your nightmare's not a dream, |
|
They'll choke you and your screams. |
|
A clashing comes, the haunting presence controlling all that breaths. |
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It's brought the world down to its knees, |
|
The hounds of hell are freed, |
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Desolate, |
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And with their bite, disease. |
|
His evil never sleeps. |
|
Sacrificing sons and daughters, rolls the war machine, |
|
The tyrant fills his destiny. |
|
The snakes come slithering, |
|
Anarchy, |
|
Chaotic hunters rise, |
|
Spit in their evil eyes. |
