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Antiquated ghouls

Their world obscene

Warlords descend

Dictate belief

Forked tongues forge lies

Foul hands steal dreams

Warped minds shape masses

Indecencies

To burn stone

Is their parlay

The faults our own

We play their games

These fucking vultures

Are not your friends

There are no means

Only an end

They'll promise you gold

And rape you blind

They'll fuck your heart, your soul

Your mind.

That's as good as it gets

So onward to oblivion