My hands tremble at the sight of weakness Leading me to question this lost world We have chosen to abandon our ways We have chosen to abandon our true nature Weakness festering deep within, eroding our future Generations of timid, fearful sheep, looking for a saviour Addiction to relief - breeding weakness, bringing us the end The weak breed times they are not suited for I chose to swing, the hammer, our weapon One day your pathetic cries will cease And my ardour for barbarity will imprison you and your allies