Morbid Angel

Foulest ... Beneath the Churning tide
Feeding... Upon this waste of light,
This sore of mass consumption
Lies within this, treachorist,
This Undevine, conceived of hate by
Whores and slaves, in dying pain
From within this seething comes
The empty threat of the besieged
I shall never fall
I am Vengeance!!
Release these strikes of penance
Realize these words of war
Unhold these minds emotion
Release this wrath within haste
Bring this fate upon these men who choose to be
At one with the cowardice within thine enemy
From within this seething comes
The empty threat of besieged