Our burrowed paths

Dig earth's crust

As the nimbus rise

In darkened skies

On lands they claim to borrow

Killing those who defend its return

Ancestors of tomorrow’s seeds burn

Charred skin from which no new growth lay

Wear oiled seas and lifeless bays where gills choke waters as we do air

And the marrow we lay in stone is a sick display for those who claim this home

But hostile is the grave we dig

No olive branch, sage or fig

Slow execution

Blood in the yolk

Degeneration after generation

Of rights revoked

Our tomb reaches the sky

But never heaven high

If we’ve built hell on earth

Let the old gods rise

Degeneration after generations of stagnation