Crawling you come to this place 

flat on your face 

Weakened to dust by the process of life 

Pleading and groaning to live by your own means 

You'd Kill, Kill, Kill for the chance to quench 

Put out the death  (x4) 

A world content with pain 

Its just a violence game 

Crowd around and feed the flame 

Choking out the life inside you 

Rising smoke from hate 

Burning need to uncreate 

Crippled beggar on the throne of your life 

Prostrate you come to this place 

Demanding your praise 

This idol of cantradiction 

Lifting your head and your hands 

To subject to the Lie lest you die 

Give whats left to the Christ 

He paid the debt  (x3) 

Put out the death