Man has praised the manner
The bait defines the pall
A peer is deemed an animal
In Death, we all converge
Batons craved by dazed men
War derides the law
As our fear will leave us torn
Gorge
Man has faced the answer
The shadow claims our gods
Feed them one and all
Pride, see them march on
Might, hear them summon
(Gorge)
The lord then ties the noose
(And) the hands that work for peace are fist to counterparts
Trust, toil
(And) the words that sing the reaper, made holy by the poll
Trust, why?
Man can not fathom, on conditioned mind
Will we ever test it all?
Claiming the manner, won't be the blight
We did manifest it all
Will the seers vow, as we maul ourselves, it's not what has to be, but all they know would be?
Will the leaders vow, as we maul ourselves, it's not what has to be, but all they know would be?
Will the people know, as they maul themselves, it's not was has to be, but what they chose to be?
The herd, insatiable
So may the feast go on
The lord, insuperable
So may the feast go on