The revolutionary soul
Exmortem
I have seen the valleys of death
Where weeping flowers grow
Ugly streams of grey souls
Are marching towards the pyre
Where weeping flowers grow
Ugly streams of grey souls
Are marching towards the pyre
Now blasphemic bells
Are ringing in your head
We have made a weapon of hatred
To slay the stagnant powers
To reach the land of utopia
Where creative chaos reigns
Now blasphemic bells
Are ringing in your head
Wicked Demons on the ringside
The challenger has cut his chains
We are aiming through the fog
Digging a deeper hole
But we shall rise from the pyre
Like a disaster from below
We have made a weapon of hatred
To slay the stagnant powers
To reach the land of utopia
Where creative chaos reigns
So cast yourself into the flames
Lick the powers of the burning planet
It is the reawakening
Of the Revolutionary Soul
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