IRC-Galleria

In this weakened time, the bastards tries to rise
We're not going down, without a fight.
As long as i have, my scalpel, we are going to be all right.
Hatred, towards you, nothing more you deserve.
Taking Jesus Christ from behind, injecting venom, to all true, believing child.
Bloodlust, towards you, Elnagh, the mighty warrior of the road.
Crushing everything that stand on it's way.
Holy herd gathering for cause,
Possessed child eating you inside.
Smell the scent of burning flesh, it comes from the mighty leader of yours, once stood so strong,
now the only option is to fall.
I'm going to, strike, it with, full force.
I lick your dripping wound, now you feel the cut.
Throat open wide