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The False Prophet - Fit for an Autopsy
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The False Prophet Fit for an Autopsy

The False Prophet - Fit for an Autopsy
What makes you think that you're the only fucking one worthy of a throne in a kingdom of gold?
Selling your soul for the fortune in lies that you have told

False prophet of misery
Feasting on the minds of the weak
Twisting the words of dead men to suit your perverse beliefs
Disciple of dishonor
Loyal heir of unjust grief
Forked tongue and scales for skin
You'll never see the light of day again

King of all kings
Serpent divine
Savior of fools
Martyr to none
You will die for nothing

Father of bastards
I am the executioner
Mother of mercy, praise be to those who've died in vain
Whose glorious conquest is this?
Whose failed crusade?
What lucid dreams of destiny
You follow in your wake
The shadows of the trampled tombs will forever haunt your steps
A cowards life you lead
A liar and a thief
The despair you reap has sowed itself inside your veins
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