Dm
Death's breath on the back of our neck. The bitter taste of blood, flowing in floods
Dm
Consuming all the rations, neglect is a crime of passion
Dm
I don't believe we've earned our keep or deserve this peace, self centered catastrophes
Dm
Armies of fools will fall. Nights of no end. Writing on the wall
Dm Gm Am Gm
War is now the will of your God. The prophets hands are stained
Dm Gm Am Gm
War is now the will of your God. Heads Will Hang
Dm
All hail the antiheroes. Life reduced to ones and zeros. Expand and expire. Voices of reason retire
Dm
The threat is real, when you can feel the pain they feel. The writing’s on the wall
Dm Gm Am Gm
War is now the will of your God. The prophets hands are stained
Dm Gm Am Gm
War is now the will of your God. Heads Will Hang
Dm Gm Am Gm
Soul Seller. Fortune Teller. Plague Bearer
Dm Gm Am Gm Dm Gm Am Gm
The fog won't lift. These comforts are counterfeit. The kings of shame stretch the divide
Dm Gm Am Gm Dm Gm Am Gm
The pieces never fit. First world counterfeits. The great collapse now justified
Dm Gm Am Gm
Peace is merely a gift for the privileged, safeguarded from the pain
Dm Gm Am Gm
This indifference is paid in blood. All hands are stained
Dm Gm Am Gm
The grip of oppression tightens the noose, but when they kick out the chair, heads will hang
Dm Gm Am Gm
War is now the will of your God.
