Oh what glorious fields we have reaped
Brazen, envenomed with pride
In circular motion we harvest defeat
On the gallows the tide turns to night
Luna wakes to illuminate deeds to be done in the shelter of darkness
Thus betrayed we claim schemes to be less than they seem and divide to hush up
our departures
Ominous shadows and bringers of light gather up the droppings of angels
Then at cockcrow they hurry for a place to be buried and their arrogance turns
to the coldest of despairs
…ah
Territus terreo!
Slave to our meaningless goals we crawl
Torn between heaven and hell
Humana sighs, to vermin and filth she’s born
And duly serves her helpless masters well
And now, by our burden of sins
We are drawn down upon our knees
Again to crawl as we used to do
With the fields now infertile we turn
And blame the blood of our brothers
The sky shall grow black as we burn
And our smoke is reversed by the heavens
Luna wakes…