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The Branch Of Cool Progeny
by
Nomad
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Lyrics
Kingdom of the dead is a torture toolfor the picked fruit of wisdom.Cemetery of antichrists is waiting obedientlyFor the call of its henchmen's namesOpen earth rewards with its warm the ones who are keeping its infinity.Volcanoes of power present bodies of the ones who are able to face themselves.Disprove me, disprove with meHungry mounds of minds torture the bound instincts of independence.Fear hasn't been rewarded by socially spiritualised law.Blessings will never become realTo the devoted worshipers of the cross.Designate me, designate with meThrow with me away, throw me awayAn experience demands strong deliberation with the narcotic of christian wisdom to still stand the life in their sick, imaginated world.Only degradation amongst own race lets hover in illusions of the holiest humility.The heirs of own identity must close themselves deep inside their souls and darknessTo be still of sound mind.The offspring of chaos can danceOn the naked stupidity and ignorance of its holy oppressors.Roused from the penance we're marching outside insanity,Waiting for the kingdom of antichrists to come.I'm the bell you bangI'm the army you bless
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