Primordial - Gods To The Godless download song

Song Lyrics

a plague upon all your houses
Borne with fear in their eyes, within the subconscious of generations
And the stench of your slaughtered kin, we are your cross to bear To, i have one desire
it is my wish
May your wines be foul, but as sure as the night follows the day
A dead people, the desire to sweep away what is sacred and profane

Borne with fear in their eyes, as tools to build a new empire
We are your cross to bear, perhaps you shall be a martyred people
A plague upon all your houses, within the subconscious of generations
the soil enriched with their blood
as tools to build a new empire
as tools to build a new empire

An ill wind to bring nought but decay, and your bread as the flesh of the dead
The soil enriched with their blood, to enforce and embrace tragedy to imbed it deep
As tools to build a new empire, it is my wish
The soil enriched with their blood, to enforce and embrace tragedy to imbed it deep
To enforce and embrace tragedy to imbed it deep, we are your cross to bear
Within the subconscious of generations, a pestilence upon your lands

And the stench of your slaughtered kin, the soil enriched with their blood, all that lives on the vine is rotten
as tools to build a new empire
The desire to sweep away what is sacred and profane, a plague upon all your houses
within the subconscious of generations
The desire to sweep away what is sacred and profane, all that lives on the vine is rotten
All that lives on the vine is rotten, and slavery in their limbs

as tools to build a new empire
The desire to sweep away what is sacred and profane, within the subconscious of generations, may your wines be foul
As tools to build a new empire, a pestilence upon your lands To, to enslave all your people
perhaps you shall be a martyred people
i have one desire
All that lives on the vine is rotten, the desire to sweep away what is sacred and profane

An ill wind to bring nought but decay, borne with fear in their eyes
perhaps you shall be a martyred people
Perhaps you shall be a martyred people, to enforce and embrace tragedy to imbed it deep
Perhaps you shall be a martyred people, within the subconscious of generations
And the stench of your slaughtered kin, may your wines be foul
And slavery in their limbs, perhaps you shall be a martyred people To, to enslave all your people

an ill wind to bring nought but decay
As tools to build a new empire, a plague upon all your houses Gods, it is my wish
an ill wind to bring nought but decay
A pestilence upon your lands, our gods shall become your gods
an ill wind to bring nought but decay
and the stench of your slaughtered kin

the soil enriched with their blood
we are your cross to bear
Within the subconscious of generations, our gods shall become your gods Primordial, all that lives on the vine is rotten
to burn your places of worship
but as sure as the night follows the day
To enforce and embrace tragedy to imbed it deep, i have one desire

Perhaps you shall be a martyred people, as tools to build a new empire
Our gods shall become your gods, and the stench of your slaughtered kin Godless, a pestilence upon your lands
To enslave all your people, within the subconscious of generations
It is my wish, an ill wind to bring nought but decay The, it is my wish
but as sure as the night follows the day
all that lives on the vine is rotten