Shadow of Intent feat. Phil Bozeman - Where Millions Have Come to Die

To a metropolis undignified
They have come to die
Blind rats in the maze affright vie for each block and structure
Garrisoning city heights
Onward to the riverside
They have tantalized
Everything on which they've laid their eyes
As the days go by, the death toll sustains its rise

The majority will not come home
Profound panic fiercely fervent
De-evolution of warfare runs markedly
From the sewers to the littered web of ashen lanes
A presence in the next room lurking, yet to be seen
In severance, things are never what they seem to be

True terror ten thousand fold
Adhering only to the serpent
A testament to all things taken naturally
An ejaculation of another madman's dreams
The mother of all battles rages vigorously
The death knell tolls ceaselessly for thee

Malodorous emanations stinging at their eyes
Months go by, the death toll continues to rise
Hounds pry at the calcified
Excrement waist high in the dwellings of the raiders left alive
The trampled turn the tides
They begin to twist the knife
With drive retribution unwinds
A merciless drama
Where millions have come to die
Where millions have come to die
They all paid the ultimate price
Where millions have come to die

Surrender is denied to the corps
By the despot held above them
Their losses are mounting at a staggering rate
To flee or become yet another casualty
To be shot between the eyes or take a chance to be free
In severance, things are never what they seem to be

True terror ten thousand fold
Adhering only to the serpent
A testament to all things taken naturally
An ejaculation of another madman's dreams
The mother of all battles ends on a blood red mound
The death knell tolls forever loud

Where millions have come to die
Where millions have come to die
Where millions have come to die
Where millions have come to die

They all paid the ultimate price
Where millions have come to die
Surrender is denied to the corps
By the despot held above them
Their losses are mounting at a staggering rate
To flee or become yet another casualty
To be shot between the eyes or take a chance to be free
The mother of all battles ends on a blood red mound
The death knell tolls forever loud

The kessel closes, constricting the throats of those spared from starvation, frostbite death and suicide
The morsels standing march to the beyond
With black clouds high above
They march to the unknown
With black clouds high above
They march to the unknown
With black clouds high above
They march to the unknown