Trusting beyond all reason in the ways of a fallen god?
So light the holy beacon; don't think your sins will be swept aside.
Blaspheme the old tradition.
Let out the blood of yore; leech it dry.
They'll lie, say you can trust them,
"Against the grain, you'll rise above oppression".
(CHORUS)
Where Death Fears to Tread
Breast of Antithesis
(CHORUS)
You have risen
The laws of old: outmoded
The sacred rite: forsaken
With no remorse: extinction