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An old new testament of faith, ripped from the hands of the dead and placed on

the cross

Just as the light from above is captured below, the christened king of their

church is a stolen concept of the sun

I won’t wait for tomorrow, I won’t wait for a sun that won’t rise a god that is

dead, buried in lies, I won’t speak of forgiveness, to those who have no true

will of their own, their fate has been sealed, their blood has run cold

I am the sword of hell and in the words of god «he who cannot be torn from

heaven»

Just as the light from above is captured below, the christened king of their

church is a stolen concept of the sun

Won’t wait for tomorrow, I won’t wait for a sun that won’t rise a god that is

dead, buried in lies, I won’t speak of forgiveness, to those who have no true

will of their own, their fate has been sealed, their blood has run cold

I am the sword of hell and in the words of god «he who cannot be torn from

heaven»

From heaven, I will not go, I will not go, from heaven

Until they are gone, until they are gone, from heaven

I will not sleep, I will not sleep, never

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