file All accusations, the usual way, we must deny The shadow minds, gathered around the Pentagram They always fight, a war, on our planet grand Angel of death
death! Priestress: And who will count the slaughtered lifes? The Burned? The Tortured? The Demised? The Blood of the Innocent? The Decline of the stolen Trinity? The angels
a fuck about you, like I do. Count the bodies like sheep Count the bodies like sheep Counting bodies like sheep To the rhythm of the war drums Count
a damn on the people. [Amos Hart] -People what? [Billy Flynn] -Laugh. [Amos Hart] -Laugh? Why would they laugh? [Billy Flynn] They can count. Can you count
upon her lips Passing like a comet so white as to eclipse The Waltz wound down, transfixed Devoid of all breath in the air Even death paled to compare
death! [Priestess:] Abd who will count the slaughtered lifes? The Burned? The Tortured? The Demised? The Blood of the Innocent? The Decline of the stolen Trinity? [The Angels
Her lips Passing like a comet so white As to eclipse The waltz wound down, transfixed Devoid of all breath in the air Even Death paled to compare To
