A soft procession of endless hymns

Swallowing bullets like sleeping pills

Across the floor of an ancient room

It was not god, it was not the moon

The knives come out to protect the nest

Crying out in the wilderness

They are not men.

They are a flock.

Mindless quarry.

Less than livestock.

They are not men.

They are a flock.

They're here to

Cut them up

Inside like sine broken

Bloated hive mind wet worms

Of hate devoted to decay

Inside my mind hidden beasts

Run wild until the prey subsides

The hunger will remain

A soft procession of endless hymns

Swallowing bullets like sleeping pills

The sound of the axe in the chipping block

The smell of the skin from afar

The night coils on to its cruel end

Crying out in the wilderness

They are not men.

They are a flock.

Mindless quarry.

Less than livestock.

They are not men.

They are a flock.

They're here to

Cut them up

Inside like sine broken

Bloated hive mind wet worms

Of hate devoted to decay

Inside my mind hidden beasts

Run wild until the prey subsides

The hunger will remain

My worst fear is coming true I think

I am becoming you

My worst fear is coming true I think

I am becoming you

Skin of the master; mouth of the slave

My worst fear is coming true I think

I am becoming you

My worst fear is coming true I think

I am becoming you

Skin of the master; mouth of the slave

The sound of the axe

The smell of the skin

The night boils on

They are not men.

They are a flock.

Mindless quarry.

Less than livestock.

They are not men.

They are a flock.

They're here to

Cut them up

Inside like sine broken

Bloated hive mind wet worms

Of hate devoted to decay

Inside my mind hidden beasts

Run wild until the prey subsides

The hunger will remain

Inside my mind, wet worms

Of hate devoted to decay

Devoted to betray

The hunger will remain

They are not men.

They are not men.

They are not men.