March of the Tyrants

Burning hatred
 Turning colder
 Where blood boils to extinguish fear
 Turn around, you're not welcome here
 For all the torment I've spread
 I've chosen you, even though you're reeking with fear
 Turn around, you're not welcome here
 When blood breeds joy,
 Your kind devouring the dying dead. When blood breeds joy,
 Cutting every inch of their sickened skin
 When blood breeds joy,
 The greedy become the elders
 When blood breeds joy,
 In here lies the dread
 Pain
 Even though the tides will turn
 Events will come and people will burn
 To all the tyrants and people like you
 These words will echo through
 In numbers you're unbearable
 Thrown together by a lust for deceit. Digesting the innocent
 Before the lies turn into a feast
 When blood breeds joy,
 Your kind devouring the dying dead. When blood breeds joy,
 Cutting every inch of their sickened skin
 When blood breeds joy,
 The greedy become the elders
 When blood breeds joy,
 In here lies the dread
 Pain
 Like in a void, you feel nothing
 Constructed to stand yourself
 Even though the tides will turn
 Events will come and people will burn
 To all the tyrants and people like you
 Someday these words will echo through
 In here lies the dread