Little boy forget santa claus
Tigers will break free now
In the ash
In the ash
The hope of be in idyll
The bane is on the must
Consumed by the lust
Remaining rust of blood
Not feeded
Not feeded by the soul
My dear bud
I? m gonna tell you now
Sometimes the flesh makes feel head down
The harvest is fair
And have to be prepared
I'm mowing all weeds that ensnare
The bane is on the must
Consumed by the lust
Remaining rust of blood
Not feeded
Not feeded by the trust