the final war to purge and purify
this sacred world - vilified
one culture interred with righteousness, weaved from deception
down on bent knees we cry for salvation
upon death we feast with blood-soaked deceit

destruction creeps but demons don't speak
for the truth makes hearts bleed with sorrow
so angels watch the funeral march
and wait for a destined tomorrow

preyed up on by the pestilence of avarice and ignorance
from the cradle to the grave we forfeit freedom to the ranks of slaves

demons dance to a black symphony
as the war comes quick to a close
and angels on high look down in disgust
to a dead earth that circles below
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when the heavens shed tears a sordid dusk rapes
their sun-scorched machinery of disease
this brutal path we tread etched by tears of the damned
the art of salvation crafted by hands that
would kill.....that would kill

a wasteland, a ruin is all that remains as this
iron-age dissolves life to commodity, our souls
committed to atrocity, no sort of prayer can
save us now
but...

...still we will fight down from the heavens
into the arms of my mother earth
to burn the cradle of civilization - returned to dust,
still we will fight down from the heavens.