Days smelling like blood It seems like never ends Your defeat will come And your flesh will prove the pain Your victory was an anomaly You'll die slowly It's a matter of time before Your carcass meets the ground Falling down into disgrace Your leader will fall Tears tearing your face Weighing guilt and remorse For all the wrond done May you rot until you're forgotten A well of shake silently consumes Your fucking name And your image will never be Remembered next to victory