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The essence of seraphim |
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Merging with sword, onto them |
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And the seamless garment like the morning |
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Dipped in the blood of men |
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Made as the filth of the world |
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And overwhelming to direct vision |
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Becoming the agents of torment |
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Veins filled with the serum of prophesy |
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Becoming the agents of torment |
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Eyes weeping the tears of prophesy |
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Become the agents of torment |
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Ears filled with the semen of prophesy |
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Ultimate acts of perverted intimacy |
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Nary a soul left without the punishment |
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Mountains now full of yours |
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Surrounded by their own graves |
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Let no warning sound from the trumpets of gold |
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Become the beginning of the end for the land of the living |
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Delivered to death those of the whole of the globe |
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From the death of all |
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Also claims those who call for it |
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And none shall escape this |
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Be as shadows amongst the nations |
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And cause great mourning |
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Wings upon wings upon wings |
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Cause men to die |
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Filled with iniquity and perfection |
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Swallowing the holy mountain of god |
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And its fiery stones |
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Incense down from capsized center |
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Raise this voice to the ashes of the world |
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Still hemorrhaging from the intoxication of rhema |
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Dwelling within the hand of desolation |
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Merging the sword, onto them |
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The heir apparent |
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And inflictor of delicious agony |
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The whole of the human race |
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Gone as T-lymphocytes |