Incinerator

Cold breath, dark shape, stitched on mask of charred skin
Corpses by the gate, the molten mouth of the furnace waits
War is every god’s tradition, murder for your religion
Call for war, profits begin, cast the poor down into the fire
Skies light up, people transform, only one way to survive
Feed your mind to the hate
Calling out, souls burn, it inhales, and grows from the taste
Kill yourself for false kings, sacrifice your control
Repeat mistakes of their past
As they profit from your death
Warring is one way, to keep the mind controlled
Liquidate the conscious, profit’s only obstacle
War is your religion, hell on earth is your tradition
Call the war profits begin, cast the poor down into the fire
War is every god’s tradition, murder for your religion
Call for war, profits begin, cast the poor down into the fire