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• Artiste: Primordial
• Titre: Traitors Gate
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Borders swell like the oceans Nations swept away In the steel rain Wounds carved in the earth The silent hands of genocide Map the years Forgotten legacies of dust People remembered in nothing But fragments of language Verses of song And shards of military rust The gallows cold hands Tighten old rope Young men hang in the fetid breeze Like rotten fruit Too ripe for harvest They have marched us Through the streets Heralded our death Proclaimed our end And brought us to our knees A host of the willing few Is gathered at the Traitors Gates Demanding their pound of flesh And their weight in gold The tyrant Resurrected as King Who's Midas touch an Iron Fist All the world proclaiming Yesterday's man as Traitor Yet welcome with open arms His brother as tomorrows Dictator