Obtuse Metal - Barbarian

I spit on the grave

Of the gods you create

We look to no glory

For our will is unchained

No moral, no rules

No laws of a kind

For all is allowed

With a caveman mind

Unpraised and unsung

No skills to be found

Ignorable outcasts

Unbearable but proud

Ugly to the bone

Always on our own

We don’t lead flocks

We walk alone

Obtuse Metal

We ashor useless dreams

No favour we seek

Maybe passed by

But never outwilled

Tools built from sheep bones

A path of sharp stones

We walk cross-stream

We walk alone

Obtuse Metal

Glory of the fools

Followrs of rules

Subjects to fate

A bait w refuse

For disdain you moan

You bow to the throne

Approval we scorn

We walk alone

Obtuse Metal