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• Artiste: Primordial
• Titre: Death Of The Gods
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We stood on the shoulders of giants Like atlas with the burden of faith We clasped our hands in praise Of a conqueror's right to tyranny This is a language that has not passed Our lips in one thousand years So heretics I call to you Partisans stand as one Rebels raise your voices If not then all is lost This is the death of the Republic and make no mistake The senate is lost and Zeus is laughing So Mars God of war can you send a lightning bolt To smash the temple of the blind The Tiber is overflowing with the blood of innocent men And so we stood, among thieves, liars and murderers Whose names shall live in eternal rest and infamy Disgraced kings enshrined with their pious men Who ruled us all the bloodied spear of destiny You knew my name before I was born You knew my death from the moment it passed my lips This is the death of the republic Dead and gone with Pearse in the grave Haunted to the end by the ghosts of Connolly's army Skeletal figures on the trigger of Collins' demise And Parnell's dreams are turned to nothing but dust "And I say to my people's masters: beware, beware of the thing that is coming, beware of the risen people, who shall take what ye would not give. Did ye think to conquer the people, or that law is stronger than life and than men's desire to be fre?"