Cult of Luna
I: The Weapon
This is the final moments of our last days
Release and cease, beating yourself into submission

With poisoned blood, the demon speaks
See how the wolves devour the weak

They will not inherit

Eyes closed but forced open and bodies shaken awake
Inhale and cease, beating yourself into submission

With poisoned blood, the demon speaks
See how the wolves devour the weak

No one holds us accounted