|
Twinkle bright |
|
Aldebaran, the star of solitude |
|
Somewhere there is a lake of fire, pity all the fools |
|
Sorry are the desolate, the unfree and obedient |
|
For this is not the spring of love, it is the winter of discontent |
|
Standing at the shore of lake of fire |
|
Standing at the shore of |
|
Lake Of Fire |
|
Standing at the shore of |
|
Lake Of Fire |
|
Standing at the shore of |
|
Lake Of Fire |
|
Blood mooney, for thirty pieces of silver |
|
You shall buy yourself the time |
|
The quivering meat conception, deflorate the virgin fair |
|
Succumb to your own passion, recieve the garland made from angel's hair |
|
Crown yourself, the thorns will cut you, bleeed your majesty |
|
But by dawn it will all satisfy no more, dethrones you weep |
|
Dumped along the shore of lake of fire |
|
Dumped along the shore of |
|
Lake Of Fire |
|
Dumped along the shore of |
|
Lake Of Fire |
|
Dumped along the shore of |
|
Lake Of Fire |
|
So you've been left in chains to rot away in your own stinking rest |
|
You'll hang till death in your own entrails |
|
What you're gonna do, peasants with nukes |
|
But death you'll see shall make us free |