Text: Pro-pain. Foul Taste Of Freedom. Rawhead.

beyond the realms of death

lies beneth the earth a beast

and all is well
as he rots in hell


in myth made by man
but he's soon to be released




he's dismissed but not deceased
and to the church he came

and pissed upon the priest
he saw, he maimed



rawhead, you screamed as you bled


now your loss is his gain
as he inhales your final breath
you're dead, and with no regrets



he'll gather up your remains

he thrives upon demise
and drag you down the trail of death




with hatred in his eyes

he came to kill

and kill he will
he'll cut you down to size


there's nowhere left to run
the game is lost, he's won


he rips your eyes

and drinks your cries

surprise, your dead, your done