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For all this fire we never heardshanks round the bendwhen you're foaming at the rimOn your serrated edgeyou're like a snail that's deadthe hiss I make is warning to the scalpelWhen you walk the plank, tell me what you seeMoloch in the time of mutinyWhen the body wants to fix this framea guilty presence starts to fill our capeborn into the strangle, fists around the neckThe hiss I make is warning with extreme prejudiceWhen you walk the plank, tell me what you seeMoloch in the time of mutinyHalf of the timemurdering cleanstanding in filthgets no reliefHalf of the timemurdering cleanLetras de cancionesdon't roll your eyesstanding emptyWhere I'm goingyou've taken your signstand on your ownstanding emptyWhat answer until now must you give?Won't you tell my fingersto spell extinction? From Letras Mania