GOD,BLESS TO MY KILLING

War fury
dying for wind
maniacs vision and fucking ideas

Before you set to killing
come to priesthoods and hit refer oneself to godhelp on each side

God,bless to my killing
God,bless to our weapons
God,indulge us the killing power at full blast enemy
God,give me the power for the killing

At last you lay on bloody land
critically wounded
all the cogitations and poetic worlds are away.

You rattle and spue the blood out
but they don´t even now the tranguillity.

The priest incline to above you
and he mumbles the learnad phrases about sin,blame and repentance.

So vent oneœ conscience
please,leave at snuff g.t.
shit to your redemption!

Where is your god perhaps now???

If HE really exists
most probably takes delight in view of deadœ stacks
because HE endears in the killing.

God,cherish to my killing
               my killing
               my killing
               my killing
               my killing