Nettlethrone - Aesthetics Of A Dead Art lyrics

Martyrs lie in the graves of deceit Scorned by hate, in pestilent defeat Once proud puppets of hypocrisy Spoiled bodies, laid down on their knees Crimson dawns charged with a-bombs Behind the walls men disguised in green Slaughter of the innocence For the profit of the vile First bury a man, then a nation Millions are expandable Once found ethics of virtue Lost in the faceless felony They know, they lie, they die In the name of god They knew, they lied, they died How would you pay their blood? Warmongering for centuries The aesthetics of a dead art Bring it down, take what once ours The aesthetics of a dead art Mark our words, raise your fists Your tyranny ends here Harnessed men stand their ground This is how we'll bring you down Years of crumbling mirth Make them a distant memory As they stretch down the strings Pull them down, take their wings Martyrs lie in the graves of deceit Scorned by hate, in pestilent defeat Once proud puppets of hypocrisy Spoiled bodies, laid down on their knees Mark our words, raise your fists Your tyranny ends here Harnessed men stand their ground This is how we'll bring you down