Doom... Another soul brought to it's fate Loss... Punishment I create They are all so thoughtless Brought down by their own sins Run from the sickness that lays in your veins The dark path forbids you to cure yourself Your-Self... Voice of fate, Trembles in fear As the Mourning Chorus Draws to a close Taken a back from your life, Crippled with disease By the stagnant blood that k**s from within Find the reason or path for the cure you do not know Punish the few that have the strength to endure it Through Graves of long dead men Your end now beacons Played out to the end, Could you ask for much more That this game to be played to a rotten, stinking corpse There's no life to be gained and the pain is too great Rotting flesh that remains, Is the final : END OF ME