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• Artiste: Whitechapel
• Titre: Father Of Lies
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Tell me all the things you want I shall prove myself among the wise I have failed you Grant my wish I beg of thee For I have done all the deeds you have asked of me That whimpering wretched whore who birthed your adversary I retrieved her head and mutilated every last remain The blood of the innocent I have spread with no fucking remorse How dare you interfere my monumental wake Forever keep these words from my mouth I will become the father of lies Holiest of holy, I ensure your crucification Enlighten me O noble one of your mendacity Give me the clearest view of your so-called commonwealth We are your foes, annihilators of the sky Limb from limb The rites are carved into your forehead Limb from limb Engorged into your psyche Limb from limb I smell the decrepit stench of your demise Limb from limb Humanity will be destroyed My pro-creator I have warned thee of my prophecy Until that day, stand your fucking ground My pro-creator, stand your fucking ground (Thanks to Hunter for these lyrics)