#1 Lyrics

The war chief's log

The moon she glistens

Still and silent

Sitting aside the backdrop of a black void

What we do under her command is nothing of holy

And yet I once belonged to the church

I spent my friday evenings deep in youth group

Praising the lord aside his flock

Preaching the good word

Overwhelmed with simplicity and glee

Much like the black sheep I am

A trait I cannot run from

A trait that is present in every blood drop of my heritage

The Indians the British and the Italians

I abandoned my herd

A black sheep

The ones I held closet to my tainted heart

All in exchange for fulfilling curiosity

Curiosity killed me

It ate up my soul

Yet it freed me of chains

Chains I wish I still wore

Though I could never sit within the fences of the lord

I needed to see what lied in his absence

What lied over the hill aside the church

So one night

I crept out

Still and silent

Much like your grace

I found you in very strange places

At the bottom of bottles littered on the tavern floors

At the edge of joints the townsfolk smoked

I clung onto the clutches of your bosom

And sucked every drop of liquor out your tit

I was a hungry pup that could never be satisfied

With scraps and rubble

Yet look at me now lord

Are you proud of who I have become

I doubt it

For here I stand behind the stage

After pretending to be some sort of victor

A champion for the common man to look up to

And inspire them through mustering their masculine rage

In the mosh pit

I flicker ash and tobacco onto the floors

With a bad bitch clutched in my arms

And a arrangement of supplements in front of me

Despite every attempt to

I could not mute the backdrop of the voices of the dammed

That echo that chant

Awaiting for my arrival at the next gig

They echo aloud

Long live the horde

Shut up

Long live the horde

Be quiet

Long live the horde

Shut up

Long live

The horde