Open Graves letra

Now we are slaves to our own history,
New architects of divine treachery.
When it's over what becomes of you and I?
The bastard sons of a gentile line.
There are open graves, desecration our human hands have made.
I am throwing myself to the abyss, and the ashes prove the flame.
This is what I know of faith.
I offer this, some compensation for consequence.
I test my method, some expression of my repentance.
Now to the architect, construct of imagination,
I leave his body as my free-will's evidence of a failed design.
I am throwing myself to the jackals.
What becomes of you and I?
The bastard sons of a gentile line.
We're not the hollow vessels,
We're not forgotten slaves.
We're not an abstract concept.
We are not open graves.
Now watch it burn to the ground.
Watch as I will tear it down.
I will break this earth, I will watch it burn.
This is offered to you:
Can you hear the sound of truth, it's calling out to you.
I have one truth, given to me and offered to you.
What is dead will rise again.

Letter To The Exiles - Letras

• A World Of Wicked Men
• Conversations With Fallen Saints
• Epilogue
• Eulogy
• From Shadows To Substance
• It's Never Safe to Dream
• Make Amends
• Martyrdom
• Oh, Holy Dread!
• Open Graves
• Retribution
• The Greater Hands Of Lesser Sons
• The Violence Of Our Kind
• There Will Be Blood
• There Will Be Blood
• They Made Me The War Machine
• Thieves
• This Is The Day, The Mourning
• Threnody
• To The One Who Keeps Us From Failing
• To The One Who Keeps Us From Falling
• To the One who keeps us from falling II
• Transcendence
• Vacant Ship
• Vacant Ship
• You're Not Going To Seduce Anyone