Slaves - Gospel Of The Horns



Like the wicked rule the weak

Like all conquerors have their keep

I'll tear my marks into your arms

Paralyzed but still you're charmed

Like the great white circles it's prey

I rise above their deceiving ways

Liars...

Your hollow words play a hollow tune



My eyes fueled the flames

As i'm dancing, on your grave



Like the great white circles it's prey

Desert sands, mourning souls...

I'll tear my marks into your arms

Paralyzed yet still you're charmed

Like the wicked rule the weak

Like all conquerors have their keep

Liars... your hollow words play a hollow tune



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