Your blood isn't worth of shit
Still it will sell by gallons
You knew you had this coming
Still no tear of regret
Now your fear is the nectar of your foes
Where will you hide?

Hand of god/Palm of pain
Isled of agony/Christened to the cursed name of fame

Now your blood isn't worth a run
Yet you are chased by numbers
You know what you have waiting
No more time for regret
Now your sweat is the balsam of your foes
Where will you hide?

Hand of God/Palm of pain
Isles of agony/Christened to the cursed name of fame