Gas Them All

Ive erased my signs of charity, absorbed sweet inmorality
 And intense pain means light for my mental ascent.
 I forgot about good manners and about talking in the public square
 My eyes stare at the horizon of constant end...
 I make love to hate... I make hate to love,
 I have all the charachteristics of a human being
 But not a single identifiable emotion.
 ...Distant Thunder of Death... kind you will be in my mountains!!
 I have the clouds you need to step on the populist worms
 And crush their dreams of joy!!
 You are the instrument to paint the end!
 I am the paper in blank to let your artwork be done!!...
 Gas them all!
 Evil Metal is my born language
 To build my empire of lifes decline,
 I have not enough sense of humor
 To loose with your gregarious mood of jokes.
 I have come to destroy your idols
 as a not charismatic antichrist,
 I am the angel of nothingness
 pleased to give your soul what it deserves.
 ...Distant Thunder of Death ...kind you will be in my mountains!!
 I have the clouds you need to step on the populist worms...
 And crush their dreams of joy!!
 You are the instrument to paint the end!
 I am the paper in blank to let your artwork be done!!...
 Gas them all!