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THE MACHINE THAT BLEEDS
The Acacia Strain
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God is a living weapon constructed by man
To force us to fear what we don't understand
I plunge my thumbs into your wounds
Your god is here, your hell is soon
It's too late
Names for graves
You will know what sadness feels like
Hell is only a word, reality is worse
There is a war
You are a casualty
Claustrophobia, dismay
The heads of our enemies on display
God's hate!
Your sacrifice will be forgotten
Your sins will not be forgiven
Not bred for war
But bred for vengeance
Heaven isn't a paradise, it's a prison (a prison)
The nectar of the gods is laced with fucking arsenic
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