Apocalypsis

My Lord, war, famine, death

A sword, a sword, sharpened and polished
Sharpened for the slaughter of the Image of God
Yes a sword, a sword, to gut the flesh of life
Behold the demise of God's creation
Die

Blot out the sons of men
Repent over Your creation
For Thy crown of Thorns was of the earthen soil
And Satan a finger of the shrouded left hand
Angels sound the trumpets for the Lord's vengeance

A blackened sun and a bloody moon adorn the heavens
The Son of God, for all to see
Wielding a sword, Jesus weeps