Artista: Ulcerate
  Canción: Martyr Of The Soil

Here we exist upon the cliff tops 
Exhausted and empty 
Sneering into the darkness below 
Wet palms, coppery and thick 
Lines of red to mark our progress 
But to what end? 

We are a part of this plague 
Unclean and nai"ve 
We climb upon the cross 
To be crowned? 

This will deaden all but the brightest lights 
And I personify the black 

I am despair 

The futility and the frustration 
These two hands make liars of us all 
Denial and disaster are mine 
Step up to the gallows, defeated and lost 

Fall away 
Resign yourself to this faithless leap 
For there can be no half measures 
And the noose is already around our necks 
Jerk awake with the revelation 
And dangle above the maggots 
The twine exists as the separator 

Through suffocation and sodden eyes 
She will not hold