Black Path - Dethrone

Hail dismay
Eternal pain
On our way towards crucifixion

Dark days
Eleven nights
On the twelfth we'll build your grave

A new era of freedom will finally begin
Your death will be the cure to the chaos you've built

We bowed like hounds in front of a great illusion
When shadows die we'll build our reign in retribution

The final sacrifice
Dethrone the scythe that harvests our sorrows
Toss it on the well of impending doom

"That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die."

Rush towards you
Lurking through the void in silence
Crawling behind your shade
Destroy the image of your fake creations

Erasing you forever
Cast out to the lake of fire
It's too late to seek for salvation
But mark our graves with our biggest mistake