Sons With Horns

Ascend to great heights
Preparation for the fall
This is the struggle
Of the celestial

Bodies that fill the sky
Bow to worship,not I
To make all hate my weapon

Prideful you may deny
Rather condemned to die
The final word non serviam

You put your hands in the mud and the shit and pulled out a rib bone to duplicate it

The creation of man
Your preference an ape
I cant understand
How could you my lord
Turn your back on perfection
Because you are bored

No such thing as time
to the immortal
Every extinction
a chance to start again

This time we’ll burn it down
Not a trace will be found
The final war in heaven

You think it still exists
That there is time to fix
what happened in revelations

On the day that you made light it exposed a flaw in the structure
Since you needed a scapegoat you condemned me to die
Now I’m stuck in this prison made of sinners bones

Without form and void
Blameless in your ways
Settings and mountings of gold
Fallen from the most high

In your absence I know death
To be forgotten and cold
Forever burn in the fire
Iight my anguish to fuel Hell