I remember just last night
We [bad word] and we [bad word] whores
And I remember some prayed to their gods
For they knew that tomorrow we marched into [bad word] “Death you have followed me, followed me all these years
Kept the noose about my neck and prayed upon my fears”
Then came the flames

man of the cloth came to pray for me
Telling me tales of salvation
To curse my death with morality
And tell his lies of redemption
But our spirit dies in mothers tears
And in our brothers heart
And maybe women will tell tales of our lust
As we fall into blood and dust
Who’ll stand at the edge of my grave
When thy cold winter calls
Who’ll stand at the edge of my grave
Who’ll weather this storm

I stand alone
I stand alone
Death is a curse that has followed me
Death is a curse that has followed me…

The tyranny of the inevitable
Stands upon us like the cross on our graves
curse of the living on death
Not something to fear but transgress
For whom the bell tolls indeed
The bells toll for me
Then came the flames

Now [bad word] to see it’s not real
In a world where beliefs are diseased
Now I see clearly the sky above
And I can’t see your God and your alone
For whom the bells toll indeed
The bells toll for me

For whom the bells toll indeed
The bells toll for me