He's reigning down in the shadow lands again.
Born as the bastard son, lost in his own pretension.
Dastardly concerned, yet
chipped away in time,
You'll come to find out that your boy is never coming back.
He's reared himself a throne,
So bow to the
king of nothing.
Lost himself again in black bile, bow to your king.
His majesty, the wretch.
He's drenched himself in the
sweetest of all sin.
Just one more rail he cries, as one foot graces his grave.
Fearlessly inept, a failure from the
womb.
Apologies but your boy is never coming back.
He's reared himself a throne,
So bow to the king of nothing.
Lost
himself again in black bile, bow to your king.
His majesty, the wretch.
He's failed you all once again, conquered by the
poisonous bliss.
There will be no revival this time around.
He's failed you all once again, conquered by the poisonous
bliss.
Well, he's far too gone now, too far gone to save.
He's reared himself a throne,
So bow to the king of
nothing.
Lost himself again in black bile, bow to your king.
His majesty, the wretch, his majesty.
Bow to the king.
His
majesty, his majesty, the wretch
