Tribe burn the wicked Born mutilated You're cursed, before, your day Dark ages haunt you Turn to the maker Embrace, your death, your own Left for dead, out in the dark, a price will be paid. Scrape, scratch, crawl, claw, my wrath will be felt. Consumed with hatred You dead from within The cursed will be pained Misdirected hate I am the common outcast No contribution To your retribution Your own, your own, your own Blind satisfaction You die in disgust You choke, your blood, you're dead