My Dying Bride

In fiery flight we would leave
this hall
The Holy house, House of
God will fall
To death they go with music
and song
But our dread simply must
go on
I feel our need to feed goes on
For our greed, watch them
bleeding on
This hour's ours, with open
arms go on
Crowned with thorns and pain
was he
Raised our hands and slew
him utterly
Crimson waves of the tears
of war
This is what we were put
here for