Heads Will Hang - Fit For An Autopsy

Death’s breath on the back of our neck

The bitter taste of blood, flowing in floods

Consuming all the rations

Neglect is a crime of passion

I don’t believe we’ve earned our keep

Or deserve this peace, self centered catastrophes

Armies of fools will fall

Nights of no end.

Writing on the wall

War is now the will of your God

The prophets hands are stained

War is now the will of your God

Heads will hang

Heads will hang

All hail the antiheroes

Life reduced to ones and zeros

Expand and expire

Voices of reason retire

The threat is real

When you can feel the pain they feel

The writing’s on the wall

War is now the will of your God

The prophets hands are stained

War is now the will of your God

Heads will hang

Soul Seller

Fortune Teller

Plague Bearer

The fog won’t lift

These comforts are counterfeit

The kings of shame stretch the divide

The pieces never fit

First world counterfeits

The great collapse now justified

Peace is merely a gift for the privileged

Safeguarded from the pain

This indifference is paid in blood

All hands are stained

The grip of oppression tightens the noose

But when they kick out the chair

Heads will hang

Heads will hang

War is now the will of your God

War is now the will of your God