Thy kingdom come has come undone
On the cross, your only son
For the hills the peasants run
The trap is set, the web is spun
Like moths to the flame, I succumb to temptation
I take it in vein
Decayed, withered away, our golden years
Spent tilling our graves
The seven seals, eyes of the dead
Under the veil, inside your head
The pale horse, the necrophage
Red skies, the black plague
Rats and black widows
Our house is condemned
Our lives are condemned
I hear you screaming my name, our golden years
Wasted and profane
Atrophied, left to decay
Our lives are condemned...