Blood کے بول

Illusions of freedom of hope and redemption Seduce the vain, the weak And the well intentioned Accepting the praise for their own sacrifice For these seven martyrs sainthood is their right This is the vile bloody manifestation Of brewer’s anger of her own creation Obedient to commands inside the dream The truth of the under-mission is revealed Blood. Blood on my hands, the true joy of killing again Everything that they said justifies everything that I did to them I have blood A slow mutilation they watch and they feel It is unbelievable but it is real Agony and surprise in equal measure Hopeless and consumed by this moment of terror Familiar and comforting in my control Taking their choices and leaving them cold As gasping and bleeding they plead for their life The beautiful moment that death fills their eyes Blood. Blood on my hands, the true joy of killing again Everything that they said justifies everything that I did to them I have blood. Blood on my hands I have absolute power over them They journey to nothing, there is no light and no God that can ever comfort them I have blood Pembridge Tell me about the dark side of black Laika His wife killed their daughter, then killed herself, while black was on a covert operation Then he left special forces and became a mercenary During the west flanders insurrection He became known as the butcher of wevelgem He killed babies and women and murdered whole families He enjoyed his work Then he disappeared. I found him but he thinks he found us He was selected before he applied I believe he will easily accomplish the under-mission Pembridge William black Captain william christopher black It is time for the dream Blood. Blood on my hands, the true joy of killing again Everything that they said justifies everything that I did to them I have blood. Blood on my hands I have absolute power over them They journey to nothing there is no light and no God can ever comfort them I have blood