Coffin On Coffin

Marco “Thorgrim” Westenbrink, Nembrionic

This could be the fortress of new hate
Based on lustration, based on hate
A lack of mind, a lack of sense
Unfold the flag, symbol of knowledge
The Antipriest of death, likes whales followed
Into what's gaseous, into their grave
if we must cleanse, so be it

Roused, plagues
Tribal instinct, need to kill
Altered in madness, the principle is pure
To survive is to eat
Weak are we, blinded we seek

Coffin on coffin, you'll be
Torn apart, no rest in pieces

Scrutiny for purity, the flesh is all the same
Bigger than life, closer to death

Reform now conform now
Mourn, for there will be no dawn
Inhale death's breath

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