Nomad The Branch Of Cool Progeny
Kingdom of the dead is a torture toolfor the picked fruit
of wisdom.Cemetery of antichrists is waiting
obedientlyFor the call of its henchmen's namesOpen earth
rewards with its warm the ones who are keeping its
infinity.Volcanoes of power present bodies of the ones
who are able to face themselves.Disprove me, disprove
with meHungry mounds of minds torture the bound instincts
of independence.Fear hasn't been rewarded by socially
spiritualised law.Blessings will never become realTo the
devoted worshipers of the cross.Designate me, designate
with meThrow with me away, throw me awayAn experience
demands strong deliberation with the narcotic of
christian wisdom to still stand the life in their sick,
imaginated world.Only degradation amongst own race lets
hover in illusions of the holiest humility.The heirs of
own identity must close themselves deep inside their
souls and darknessTo be still of sound mind.The offspring
of chaos can danceOn the naked stupidity and ignorance of
its holy oppressors.Roused from the penance we're
marching outside insanity,Waiting for the kingdom of
antichrists to come.I'm the bell you bangI'm the army you
bless
