Crawling you come to this place
Flat on your face
Weakened to dust by the process of life
Pleading and groaning to live by your own means
You'd Kill, Kill, Kill for the chance to quench
Put out the death (x4)
A world content with pain
It's just a violence game
Crowd around and feed the flame
Choking out the life inside you
Rising smoke from hate
Burning need to un-create
Crippled beggar on the throne of your life
Prostrate you come to this place
Demanding your praise
This idol of contradiction
Lifting your head and your hands
To subject to the Lie lest you die
Give what's left to the Christ
He paid the debt (x3)
Put out the death