The Art Of War - The Incineration of a Nation | Текст песни

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• The Art Of War
• The Incineration of a Nation

The smell of burning flesh has been engraved into my memory
I almost feel bad, but then again they would have done the same to me

Those cries of anguish, this will be your last day on earth

And we have built a machine, to trap the flames of hell
and it will be unleashed to do our bidding
And we have built a machine to trap the flames, I told you once I told you twice I wasn't kidding

The smell of burning flesh has been engraved in my memory
I almost feel bad but then again they would have done the same to me

You're going to a place of suffering,
and this will be unleashed to do our bidding

The incineration of a nation

Now you've seen too much, it's time for you to go,
to the fires with you
And now you've seen too much, it's time for you to go,
to the fucking fires with you,
and then the flames engulfed