Letras
All of the God's children they all have to die
Pauper to King sworn enemies to kin
From men without sin to those with the beast within
The grave is absolute, the grave is all
O, Death where are your teeth
That gnaw on the bones of fabled men?
O, Death where are your claws
That haul me from the grave?
And do you have justice to trump the divine
To steal the sanctity from their sermon
Reduce to ash, writing of piety
To conquer the lord's word
I think you do
O, Death where are your teeth
That gnaw on the bones of fabled men?
O, Death where are your claws
That haul me from the grave?
Do you bring fear to the hearts of heathens
When your breath is upon their necks
And the Gods, they will not answer
And the sun is not in the sky
O, Death where are your teeth
That gnaw on the bones of fabled men?
O, Death where are your claws
That haul me from the grave?
That haul me from the grave?
The grave
O, Death I am not ready for the grave
So turn your steeds around and loosen your reins
I am not - turn your steeds around - when there is no grave to keep me down
Death, I am not ready, turn your steeds around
So rise my brothers, rise from your grave
Throw your shackles off and stand by my side
So rise my brothers, rise from your graves
No grave is deep enough to keep us in chains