Tirades
take this as a threat
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A disgrace to the grace you preach to
the ones that you call brothers by blood.
Gold digger, go figure.
You and me, not alike.
I draw this line, to set things right.
The sky will darken
No light, no hope
Heavily abusing, the power of your god.
We will murder your memory.
And the day it all starts crashing down
And the mammon you love more than
life takes an end, my soul will rejoice.
- Album:
- Songs of Disheartenment