I deep my fingers into a pool of blood.
When slain bodies rot in the wake of progress,
to write upon the forehead of the wicked race.

Behold the face of death,
behold the face of man,
behold the face of death,
killing with a smile.

Behold the face of death,
behold the face of man,
behold the face of death,
slayer of it all.

Trapped in the game of the enemy,
I see the devil in his eyes,
dealer of the apocalypse.
Selling the end,
sealing our fate.
Redeeming back what you remember,
redeeming back what you remember.

When slain bodies rot in the wake of progress,
to write upon the forehead of the wicked race.

Redemption through final extinction.
Our skin will burn as we have burned in the fire of atonement