Mute Their Ways
Endstille
We are of one
From the ugliest exil we rise
Received to lance our enemies
Sadistic rapture
We crack the whips of god
And carrying the dead gene
Into the world of light
Remaining the emptyness
Mute their ways
Carrying their faith
The faithful and their death
Now untited (forever)
We are the summoned
In request for darkness
Let us be gods
Since the creator failed
Locked in a spiral of time
We lost our lives
Now summoned
The undead force