It must be some kind of art to do anything For ten straight years, and not become a master Ten straight years, and not get any better This war I wage is so perfect and right Blitzkrieg through the night This darkness will devour your light I move with the power and strength of a thousand My path of destruction, a natural reduction of filth A man is only worth his word So any value you once had has now expired Now it's war You've crossed the line that you have drawn Now its war My sword will hold you to your word And release you from this world with honor I'll turn your thumb screws down Force the sins from your guts And give you the means to an end Which you truly deserve It's much too late You are the target in my sight I must admit it feels so right My will and vision beautiful and bright Own, reap what you have sown