Mercy me
for the land is swept with hope
the pinnacles of mountains
echo
Future cries of sons and daughters
The filth of factories bleeds into the horizon
all bow to
A false dictator
who offers hope and satisfaction
with his hounds in chains
scraping their teeth along
The birth of industry
Propoghanda breeds idiocracy
the piper will follow the sky line
with broken legs he crawled for miles
knowing he'll burn for it
Haggard and torn
his night was spent well wishing
the flood
now he follows the gang like a plague
drifting through memories to feed his guilt
for widows hooked his grief to their veins
they're memories regressing
costing they're indiscretion
torn apart among the debree
costing the recent mourning
no longer hearing this
no longer hearing
For I am death and i have come to cleanse
for years you've walked amongst us
raping our words
no more
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