The fiery father will come out of the sky He shall strike upon us who were born to fry Out of despair into a mass genocide Souls swept away by his nuclear tide
A dark wind blows Over this land of death
Pounding everything Into a black smoking mess
The fury of flames Inside our wounds
All that we pray for Is death to come soon
The fiery father will come out of the sky He shall strike upon us who were born to fry Out of despair into a mass suicide Souls swept away by his nuclear tide
Our gods are dethroned By a mushroom cloud
Dead but dreaming Alone in a crowd
Reduced to ashes Naked and cold
In the not too distant future I see death itself reload
