|
The vultures have been waiting |
|
To feast upon their prey |
|
With the vengeance knife |
|
This disdain for life ends today |
|
With grand anticipation |
|
The frail have been stalked |
|
Showing no remorse |
|
This lifeless corpse is forced to rock |
|
A season of starvation is at hand |
|
Has the bastard come to eat me again? |
|
Wasting, lying the famine horde |
|
If we are the nightmare, I am the ten of swords |
|
The temple has been conquered |
|
No more statues gazing on |
|
And this wretched plague of reason's wrath |
|
Quietly awaits the dawn |
|
Still the threat of starving vultures |
|
Poised for attack, under cold skies, with blinded eyes |
|
I watch my back |
|
A season of starvation is at hand |
|
Has the bastard come to eat me again? |
|
To fall away without fear of emptiness |
|
For it must take great strength to starve |
|
Wasting, lying the famine horde |
|
If we are the nightmare, I am the ten of swords |
|
[Solo: James] |
|
Still the threat of starving vultures |
|
Poised for attack, under cold skies, with blinded eyes |
|
I watch my back, with grand anticipation |
|
The frail have been stalked |
|
Showing no remorse |
|
This lifeless corpse is force to rock |
|
A season of starvation is at hand |
|
Has this bastard come to eat me again? |
|
To fall away without fear of emptiness |
|
For it must take great strength to starve |
