On the eve of the great unraveling, I took the long way home Sickness clouded the night air, along the darkened road
New baseline insanity Racing the engines of conformity
Holy Mother Death, rising up from Mexico To cast her rictus grin across the wilted amber waves below Holy Mother Death, walk with me into the night
Far too strange to be estranged Terror sweeps the fruited plain But, I was born undead and given to offense Coffin nails and graveyard dust, to curse the populists
Stitched together, strung with a kevlar thread Sneaks the reaper, a hooked blade across your neck Smoke bathing, death's head Silver turns to lead Sneaks the reaper
Stolen flowers of the state, devotion to a hidden saint Dead and hanging upside down destruction of your holy ground Calling me to take it, then to raze it I will burn you out
The reign of death begins You're all in a cult A fucking death cult And I venerate your end Muerte Muerte
Compositores: Mark Morton, Willie Adler, John Campbell & Randy Blythe