Sinister The Silent Howling

A vision of power, confirmed by lunacy
Driven by anger, no signs of secrecy
Rely on what they want or what has not been seen
A future so desperate, untold yet still to be
For the blood on my hands, riders of death
Rely on what they want or what has not been seen
A contract of power, deformed by purity
Perfume of hatred, dismal atmosphere
I am what is left of it, I am their history
A future so desperate, untold yet still to be
For the blood on my hands, riders of death
Rely on what they want or what has not been seen
The silent howling, provoked conspiracy, malicious vagrancy
The silent howling, it has not yet been done
Scraping the flesh of nature, for this has not been told
Scraping the flesh of nature, for this has not been told
Scraping the flesh of nature, for this has not been told
Scraping the flesh of nature, artificial empathy