coming home after the war all that's left is a prisoner of two worlds the past is red of all the blood 
I spilled the future's black because there is no hope nothing is sacred to me i want you, father, to fall on your knees in the desert far away my slaughtered innocence left to decay recollections of battles without end and the lifes 
I took with my bare hands nothing is sacred to me i want you, father, to fall on your knees so 
I walked into that church and that's when 
I killed him the blood 
I spilled just yesterday as if that pleasure had never been away stabbing the ****ing life out ot him i learned the trade, 
I always win nothing is sacred to me i want you, father, to fall on your knees the blood 
I spilled just yesterday as it that pleasure had never been away