Rise up
Let's dispute
That thought from our loins
And grow
On a cursed ground
A pain's æ tt
For so and heavy
The bosom of the merciful
Who have faith in
The broken death of the soul
For the faith you possess
Is nothing but disgust and arrogance
And your need for knowledge
Is an abundance of shame and disgrace
The pain in my heart is not thirsty
For a heavenly body
Either is the failing search for angelic power
It is the fire and it burns
It is only that you
Sham for it
Partake in the shadow of guilt
Please your soul with the wonder of sin
For where are you
When the lamp goes out
But death comes one
With wet command
Echoes from the legacy of the magnificent
Will fulfill the final desolation
Rise up
Let us dispute
That thought from our land
And cultivate
On a cursed earth
An outlet of pain
For so ¥ and burden
The deed of the merciful
Who trust in
The death of the soulless
Bring judgment on other than your own head
Where you hide your shame in praise
So shall you taste the fruit
Of your own demise
Like a herd of hellwood origin
And stewards of the seed of contempt
Do we match their cunning with the splendor of loathing
With the proof of our heavy burden
Is their mind in the end? ¸d
Stumped back powerless
Rise up
Let's contest
That thought from our loins
And grow
PÃƒÈ Â¥ a cursed earth
A pain's Òს¦tt
So sweet and heavy
The fate of the merciful
Who have faith in
The soul is broken