Word Of The Master, Blood Of The Slave
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Living in a plane of misery
In which despite you work it goes to hell
Blinded masses contempt with bread
Bread of other taken away
Can't break this cycle of fear
Fear imposed by the lords
Lords of a realm with no serfs
Just simple men turned into slaves
Early grave working until you are death
Is the word of the master
Your bones are dust life has withered away
Is the blood of the slave
Control and domain even today
Society seems to be dying out
To resist is to question words
Words of cowards, fools and traitors of men
Can't break this cycle of fear
Fear imposed by the lords
Lords of a realm with no serfs
Just simple men turned into slaves
Early grave working untill you are death
Is the word of the master
Your bones are dust life has withered away
Is the blood of the slave