coming home after the war
all that\'s left is a prisoner of two worlds
the past is red of all the blood I spilled
the future\'s black because there is no hope
nothing is sacred to me
i want you, father, to fall on your knees
in the desert far away
my slaughtered innocence left to decay
recollections of battles without end
and the lifes I took with my bare hands
nothing is sacred to me
i want you, father, to fall on your knees
so I walked into that church
and that\'s when I killed him
the blood I spilled just yesterday
as if that pleasure had never been away
stabbing the f...ing life out ot him
i learned the trade, I always win
nothing is sacred to me
i want you, father, to fall on your knees
the blood I spilled just yesterday
as it that pleasure had never been away
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