False Cross 歌词

A storm is drawing nearer Tensions risen, stakes are high Count your virtues, run for shelter Judgement's passing, death is nigh Perpetual Spite Guilt Fear Rational curse of ache Drilled into our skulls Moments of clarity You snatch them up Pines in phobia They whisk away Buy the time – Bribe me Guilt me Praise him Scythe unknown – Ever ripping through us Ash from stone – Embers once wood burning Temples destroyed Mold thy mind Sculp from thine Pain of faith Grander paradigm Suffer into your past Our hands are cupped Receiving lies The wine it flows like blood upon monuments of war