1. |
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Mythos of The settler
Conquest in the name of God
What brave new world
What god of love?
Centuries past
Monuments built to monsters
What brave new world?
What god of love?
On stolen land
Unabsolved from sin?
Blow down my walls to crush
The settlers within.
Our picket fences
Our fields of green.
Whose throat was slit
For this American dream
If I share your blood
Then I bare the sinner’s cross
Justice
For what was stolen
Our picket fences
Our fields of green
This American Dream
This American dream
This American dream
Dies with me
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2. |
Ashes
01:58
|
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Burn the flag of the empire
Blood spilt In your name
Burn in ashes we rot
No peace til we’re up in flames
Blood stained conqueror / capital’s holy war
We are the terror that comes in the night
Who is free? The American ego built on lies.
Built on genocide.
Burn the flag of the empire
Blood spilt In your name
Burn in ashes we rot
No peace til we’re up in flames
Here’s the line in the fucking sand
Propaganda blitz to military states
Drain the world for western gain
The body count gets higher
Burn the empire
A bloody haze ignites the sun
Power grows from the barrel of a gun
They lit the world of fire
So we burn the empire
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3. |
Ring of Sacrifice
01:39
|
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|
The world in chaos
As we tighten the chains
What goddess weeps
At these acts so inhumane?
Extinguish the light
Of a soul that shined so bright
Innocent life
The ring of sacrifice
Yet we stay silent
In a culture of unending violence
What a wicked web we weave
To fill our mouths someone must bleed
This is a symptom
Of a system
Where life
Is to be consumed
I refuse to accept
Momentary satisfaction
I refuse to accept
Anything less than liberation
VEGAN
For those who cannot speak
VEGAN
For those who bleed
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4. |
Gaia's Dying Plea
02:22
|
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|
Darkness Clouds my eyes
empty oceans, empty skies
in a world so scorched, nothing grows
just a finger prick from a wilted rose
is all we get
Forest Die… Man will fall away
An existence so depraved, now a lifetime of decay
Extinction… reform will not suffice
Extinction…. but who will pay the price
WILL YOU CARE WHEN NOTHING’S LEFT
Into the rot
No rain
To cleanse my soul
just a finger prick
from a wilted rose
No rain
To cleanse my soul
just a finger prick
from a wilted rose
No rain
Cleanse my soul
finger prick
wilted rose
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rotworld Los Angeles, California
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