Žodžiai dainai: Dismember. Where Ironcrosses Grow. Children of the Cross.

A thousand deaths I've seen, my mind is scarred beyond repair

Don't really care if I survive this life of mental despair

Lies, lies, see the madness in their eyes

Children of the cross, lost on the path of the dead


Undead my savior, from tomb to womb I folow thee

Stigmatized, crucified, I bleed my ife unto you


Seeking the source, of the dark I've become


Killing the source of the light I despise
Hatred and soul is now one
Hatred and life is now one