coming home after the war
all that's left is a prisoner of two worlds
the past is red of all the blood I spilled
the future's black because there is no hope
nothing is sacred to me
i want you, father, to fall on your knees
in the desert far away
my slaughtered innocence left to decay
recollections of battles without end
and the lifes I took with my bare hands
nothing is sacred to me
i want you, father, to fall on your knees
so I walked into that church
and that's when I killed him
the blood I spilled just yesterday
as if that pleasure had never been away
stabbing the f*cking life out ot him
i learned the trade, I always win
nothing is sacred to me
i want you, father, to fall on your knees
the blood I spilled just yesterday
as it that pleasure had never been away