The heart of others hell Knife at the throat the flames fed by the faithful Where eyes are scorched of hope Blasphemer burned beheaded From a far we are slaves from near we are less Struggle to feed we perish or bleed Feeding on their own they are horror Where order is murder Faith is the bullet The zealot pulse beats and bays for blood Where eyes are scorched of hope Blasphemer burned beheaded From a far we are slaves from near we are less Struggle to feed we perish or bleed Feeding on their own they are horror Take our land take our lives All in the name of gods and pride We perish or bleed Descend in to the maw of the darkest madness Tear your own flesh Hope is silent to the helpless They are horror (they are horror) Left with no hope no faith For others wars his son was slain Where eyes are scorched of hope Blasphemer burned beheaded Blasphemer burned or beheaded From a far we are slaves from near we are less Struggle to feed we perish or bleed Feeding on their own they are horror