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All of the God's children they all have to die |
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Pauper to King sworn enemies to kin |
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From men without sin to those with the beast |
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within |
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The grave is absolute, the grave is all |
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O, Death where are your teeth |
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That gnaw on the bones of fabled men |
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O, Death where are your claws |
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That haul me from the grave |
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Do you have justice to trump the divine |
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To steal the sanctity from their sermon |
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Reduce to ash, writing of piety |
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And conquer the lord's word |
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I think you do |
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Do you bring fear to the hearts of heathens |
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When your breath is upon their necks |
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And the Gods will not answer |
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And the sun is no longer in the sky |
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O, Death I am not ready for the grave |
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So turn your steeds around and loosen your reins |
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I am not one for the tomb |
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So rise my brothers, rise from your graves |
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Throw your shackles off and stand by my side |
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So rise my brothers, rise from your graves |
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No grave is deep enough to keep us in chains |
