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Reap Of Martyrs
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Funeral Fornication
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A world forged in the fire of lies An ideal is born as a vital man dies Heroes of sin that give no excuse Appear rather weak with necks in a noose Glory once was sacred In ancient times of war Earned by the hunter and not the prey Sympathy for the stoic Has tarnished glory evermore Desertion of thought for feeble causes The blades of intolerance Are grinding independent thought The harvest of suicide Cultivated from vile roots The human condition Diseased and volatile Proud men who die Heroes in the eyes of all The feigning of courage Ever present, ever loved It takes no bravery to die To live and fight is the challenge Blights of passage Youths raised with dead men's morals Reap of martyrs In the end we are all dust
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