blackened lungs?...as the bittered martyred voices harvest the

songs to ruins...ruins...

pump the veins with blood and demons...to breed havoc baptized

in venom...the screams turn to whispers and we forget it...do

you see the streets turn cold and red?...as millions of swollen

hands are unable to close or clinch...

in a cycle of filth the rewards are reaped in

ruins...ruins...and now we're safe...with blood in our own

mouths...swallowed in faith...spit it out...the fear soaks

in...pointing the way to the horizon...do we choke on our

sins?