Agrarian world bathed in blood from ages past
Fixated and strangulated
this twisted seed, a b****** breed
Sewn for surplus
Sustaining domination through extraction
a policy of scorched earth, imitating wilderness
In disgust we have judged the propagator of this disease
Life undone, a broken trust, they've made a desert and called it peace
Strangling hold, so called fields of gold
as far as the eyes can see
What you call life, I call blight, and it must end
For earth to breathe
Poisonous streams
bathed in tears, cascade into an airless void
Faded and irradiated
feed death machines, such boundless greed
Desalinated, a fool's gambit
Their last defense is now removed
The slow march of death begins
This silence heralds the coming of their doom
Trapped in a spiral of supply and demand
Feeding new mouths to in time work this land
at the crack of the whip they will dance to the tune
of the lies made by the madmen who extract and consume
Whose tombs are lined with their gold yet are buried in the sludge
of a hewn and exploited world.
Dark below where no light lies, shifting under iron hides
final bastion of the deep, taken to extremes
Without the sun, they can endure, devourers of flame and stone
Mankind is weak; susceptible
Fixated and strangulated
this twisted seed, a b****** breed
Sewn for surplus
Sustaining domination through extraction
a policy of scorched earth, imitating wilderness
In disgust we have judged the propagator of this disease
Life undone, a broken trust, they've made a desert and called it peace
Strangling hold, so called fields of gold
as far as the eyes can see
What you call life, I call blight, and it must end
For earth to breathe
Poisonous streams
bathed in tears, cascade into an airless void
Faded and irradiated
feed death machines, such boundless greed
Desalinated, a fool's gambit
Their last defense is now removed
The slow march of death begins
This silence heralds the coming of their doom
Trapped in a spiral of supply and demand
Feeding new mouths to in time work this land
at the crack of the whip they will dance to the tune
of the lies made by the madmen who extract and consume
Whose tombs are lined with their gold yet are buried in the sludge
of a hewn and exploited world.
Dark below where no light lies, shifting under iron hides
final bastion of the deep, taken to extremes
Without the sun, they can endure, devourers of flame and stone
Mankind is weak; susceptible