concors' Journal

Masse, Mensch, Material.
Rome - Kriegsgotter
This age spits a race of snakes
This age unleashed
The sirens and the bells
And filled our mouths
With a leaden unclean sweetness
We have turned so numb
Can't muster hate
When we are not one
we find no way to take revenge
When god is such a painful idea
We do not sleep
We guard by betrayal
Like wolves avoiding the pack
When passion flees
Faith must endure
When all is lost
When the bells cool off
Will you be faithful?
Will all masks come off?
Will our master break
The mould in time?
Unleash the sirens and the bells

And you will find that
It's all corrupted
People and things alike

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