Mouth of a Nation's Harlots - October Falls

Through the mouth of a nation’s harlots

The traitors with endless lies falling behind

A distorted tongue, the origin of spiritual fall

A mouthful of poisoned ideals

All spat into face of these men

Still scarred for nothing, still bleeding in vein

Singing tunes for this dying age

Bow in front of the upcoming death

Bow for the sons of tomorrow

Only a scar for some, still a mark for an other

At the edge of an era, where the martyrs gather

Only flesh for the leaders, marching towards another

An age of redemption or an age for revenge?

Wrapped into the hopeless cross, the one that most of them bear

The voice of oblivion, screaming for the deaf ears

Bow in front of the upcoming death

Bow for the sons of tomorrow

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