Dm
Death's breath on the back of our neck. The bitter taste of blood, flowing in floods
Dm
Consuming all the rations, neglect is a crime of passion
Dm
I don't believe we've earned our keep or deserve this peace, self centered catastrophes
Dm
Armies of fools will fall. Nights of no end. Writing on the wall

Dm             Gm               Am             Gm    
War is now the will of your God. The prophets hands are stained
Dm                            Gm Am  Gm          
War is now the will of your God.     Heads Will Hang

Dm
All hail the antiheroes. Life reduced to ones and zeros. Expand and expire. Voices of reason retire
Dm
The threat is real, when you can feel the pain they feel. The writing’s on the wall

Dm             Gm               Am             Gm    
War is now the will of your God. The prophets hands are stained
Dm                            Gm Am  Gm          
War is now the will of your God.     Heads Will Hang

Dm               Gm           Am            Gm
Soul Seller. Fortune Teller. Plague Bearer
Dm               Gm           Am            Gm    Dm               Gm              Am            Gm
The fog won't lift. These comforts are counterfeit. The kings of shame stretch the divide
Dm               Gm           Am            Gm       Dm               Gm           Am            Gm
The pieces never fit. First world counterfeits. The great collapse now justified

Dm               Gm           Am            Gm
Peace is merely a gift for the privileged, safeguarded from the pain
            Dm               Gm           Am            Gm
This indifference is paid in blood. All hands are stained
     Dm               Gm           Am            Gm                                 
The grip of oppression tightens the noose, but when they kick out the chair, heads will hang

Dm             Gm               Am             Gm    
War is now the will of your God.