God Be With You
 [bad word] x2: Holocaust]
In the winter time, we go walking in the fields
We go to war like Apache and rebel indians with no shields
I float like a white crow, explode like a missile
In the dark places of the wall, keep the [bad word] and God be with you

[Holocaust:]
The impact'll rip your shoulders off
They're are soldiers in the dark side of the planet who walk
He holds the key, to destroying the enemy
When and M.C. disappeared, by the beats people feared
I'm stable to collide, you and your crew were tricked
Into sitting on a magic bench from which, they were unable to rise
misfortuned followed his family, because three years later
They became disabled and died, I'm a tyrant far and hazardous art
An M.C. wrestles with violence, his alter ego was leveled in a riot
On his way to the war, he was bitten by a snake
Because the smell of his wound and his cries made him offensive [bad word] left him on a delosate island...
You're moving in a shadow of life and substance, another M.C. got amped
Now I'm viciously dragging his body back to the camp
It looks like fire and an explosion, leave your back blew in
Your whole state [bad word]  a giant California [bad word] You're just a broken machine, who thinks he's a human...
 [bad word] x4]

[Holocaust:]
The good [bad word]  I've been missing for 40 years, battle us
The greatest story ever told, my catolic baters can't taker us
black dragon flying around two towers in a land that's hazardous
You bite down on a bullet for a time, and after that, return to dust
Like an idiot-dummy sitting in a chair with a smile on his face there
To the evil monarch family, I bring despair
Inside my soul, is lions, tigers and bears
ghost like the river, signs of the apocalypse
My gun occupants, above his service war is a metropolis
But I'd rather live down here in the ridge, with a tomahawk and head dress
Hoarding thousands of indians, braves, hostages
I'm like the vision in a eye of a giant great white shark
As he swims, or the hyenas in the desert glowing eyes
Making noise at noise, Seraphim, I was burned as a witch
You are stuck on a ship, inside a bottle
You live inside a painting, and move, once a week
And near the cartage in the woods, and M.C. tries to walk
And he can't move his feet, so he lifts his arms up to pray to God
And he transform as you see, into an old stretched and withered tree