Text:
Lamb Of God Ruin

and narrow. Brooks that babble the sounds of torture. You will one day ride To flood the banks of the chosen. This is the art of ruin. This is the resolution

few and narrow. Brooks that babble the sounds of torture. You will one day ride To flood the banks of the chosen. This is the art of ruin. This is the

How light could be our darkest hour? None will be left when they come To collect their blood debts Accounts will be dry, binary vessel Full of nothing

all down into pieces "The tragic figure", her sister did shout "Leave her alone, God damn, you get out" And I, in my armor, turning about And nailing her in the ruins

over the sleeper has awaken one man to rule them all concieved son of God power corrupted infected mind achieved and in denial betrayed by belief lambs

Lardy-dardy god And his son- the Bastard One All misgovernment of the light Now are the history And followers, the lambs Of our ferocious world We are

to room , from country to country in your hands there was ruin. Chorus, Your like Pharaoh of old so brave and so bold, like a gentle lamb but miserably

stained glass Young lives long since passed Statues of lovers every place I went all across the continent To relieve this restless love I walked through the ruins

your prayers cannot save us Like fools we've let the devil take command of the souls that God gave us To the altar of evil like lambs to the slaughter