(When) I wander this town of damnation I can taste tears of incineration No flames can burn you into salvation With bitter vengeance's sinful temptation Who shall cast the first stone of execration In this necropolis' impure purgation
Of us?
There are no gravestones that will bear their names No grave will embrace thee nor will hold your remains Your death reflection burned into memory So we remember, but shall not speak of thee Generations branded with fires And forgotten in self-righteous pyres
We built
Oh more cities, ten-thousand more of names No absolution in the rage of flames I roam the meadows in cold November Yet, my soul burns bright like emerald ember May it cleanse souls of the men whose wicked hands Once disturbed the body and souls of this land
