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Apocryphal tales from angles unsound, the sycophants aim to correct

Viciously dragged for flesh by the pound, its logic they just can’t accept

Burn the Ships! Clear the lands!

Restore worth with heavy hands

Modernist guilt is reserved for the weak, our principles we choose to keep

We’re starting to see how it's going to be

It’s not hard to see, moving towards entropy

Apocalypse mine with spirit unbound, the jackals with sights on their prey

Fail to recall the method we found to stamp out the light of decay

Terminus! Bloody sands!

Discipline in high demand

Plagiarists split, unoriginal speak, their blood for their libel will seep

We’re starting to see how it's going to be

It’s not hard to see, moving towards entropy

To the saddles we take

Ready the warhorses