Death Of The Meek - Death Angel

Best be prepared to meet your maker

Best be prepared to face your god

Justified unholy nightmare

Crucified of pride, you’re robbed

No escape, it’s too late

The hammer crashes down

Do or die

Cauterize to stop the blood flow

Still this tortures just begun

Eternal seconds keep on repeating

Charred retinas, a black collapsed lung

No escape, it’s too late

The hammer crashes down

Do or die

All your fears

Won’t match the wasted years

Of isolation

In due time

I will ingest your kind

Quench my starvation

All present and accounted for

Hush!

Do not speak

For tonight I raise a glass

To the death of the meek

We are the chosen

And we bare the sign

Their weapons are useless

Our weapons our mind

No you can’t believe

How you will inspire

Soon set to be free

Our blessed desire

You won’t be imprisoned

No, you won’t be ashamed

You won’t be stripped of your language

Or your family name

No more inner demons

No more bitter spite

No more of the blood stained walls

Of your ancestral pride

Comatose, your eyes grow vacant

A paralyzing fear that builds

Stripped of your pathetic icons

Robbed of your heroic will

Artifact, your way of thinking

Your bones hang up upon my wall

Another fallen empire

The most self-righteous one of all

No escape, it’s too late

The hammer crashes down

Do or die

In due time I will ingest mankind

Quench my starvation