Funeral Fornication Reap Of Martyrs
A world forged in the fire of lies
An ideal is born as a vital man dies
Heroes of sin that give no excuse
Appear rather weak with necks in a noose
Glory once was sacred
In ancient times of war
Earned by the hunter and not the prey
Sympathy for the stoic
Has tarnished glory evermore
Desertion of thought for feeble causes
The blades of intolerance
Are grinding independent thought
The harvest of suicide
Cultivated from vile roots
The human condition
Diseased and volatile
Proud men who die
Heroes in the eyes of all
The feigning of courage
Ever present, ever loved
It takes no bravery to die
To live and fight is the challenge
Blights of passage
Youths raised with dead men's morals
Reap of martyrs
In the end we are all dust