We Are The Wolves by The Famine Lyrics
We are the wolves tearing at your flesh
We are the fangs feeding from your neck
Exsanguinated efforts torn from the weakest veins
A satiated hunger, bleached bone pious remains
Black sun rising
Give in to instinct, and beg for solace, a welcomed promise of the end
Choke on the progress, a stillborn concept. Seek out the tendons left to rend
Forced march eugenics and ten golden tenets once washed in the blood of the Lamb
I am the stench of suffocating breath. I am the resting place of everlasting death
A cross of good intentions knelt to on broken knees
A once revered sepulcher now filled with foul disease
Black sun rising
Give in to instinct, and beg for solace, a welcomed promise of the end
Choke on the progress, a stillborn concept. Seek out the tendons left to rend
Forced march eugenics and ten golden tenets once washed in the blood of the Lamb
A cross of good intentions knelt to on broken knees
A once revered sepulcher now filled with foul disease
Black sun rising
Give in to instinct, and beg for solace, a welcomed promise of the end
Choke on the progress, a stillborn concept. Seek out the tendons left to rend
Forced march eugenics and ten golden tenets once washed in the blood of the Lamb
We are the wolves. We are the wolves. We are the wolves. We are the wolves
We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.) We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.)
We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.) We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.)
We are the fangs feeding from your neck
Exsanguinated efforts torn from the weakest veins
A satiated hunger, bleached bone pious remains
Black sun rising
Give in to instinct, and beg for solace, a welcomed promise of the end
Choke on the progress, a stillborn concept. Seek out the tendons left to rend
Forced march eugenics and ten golden tenets once washed in the blood of the Lamb
I am the stench of suffocating breath. I am the resting place of everlasting death
A cross of good intentions knelt to on broken knees
A once revered sepulcher now filled with foul disease
Black sun rising
Give in to instinct, and beg for solace, a welcomed promise of the end
Choke on the progress, a stillborn concept. Seek out the tendons left to rend
Forced march eugenics and ten golden tenets once washed in the blood of the Lamb
A cross of good intentions knelt to on broken knees
A once revered sepulcher now filled with foul disease
Black sun rising
Give in to instinct, and beg for solace, a welcomed promise of the end
Choke on the progress, a stillborn concept. Seek out the tendons left to rend
Forced march eugenics and ten golden tenets once washed in the blood of the Lamb
We are the wolves. We are the wolves. We are the wolves. We are the wolves
We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.) We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.)
We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.) We are the wolves. (We are the wolves.)