歌词
Come on down, to see the faces long and pained
Broken crown, the king comes down to earth to see
Turning south, his nation born with angels wings
Devoured, by heads of state and degeneracy
Confusion, above the world beneath the heel
Violence, my blushing bride without her then
I would die, I cannot see or feel a thing
Devoured, the tyrants blood upon my blade
Dead, man, the bureaucratic precedent
Sometimes time doesn’t heal
Slaughterhouse
Slaves just born, to serve the masters of the state
Undertow, it rips power from peoples’ hands
Strung and bled, for all we’re worth and then some more
I see red, as pedos tell me God is
Dead, man, the bureaucratic precedent
Sometimes time doesn’t heal
Slaughterhouse
Dead, man, the bureaucratic precedent
Sometimes time doesn’t heal
Slaughterhouse
Written by: Chuck Weatherman, Shovelhead A.D.
