The Heretic's Age Lyrics - Primordial

Soiled hands of work, to pit a Nations Fall 

Skeletal hands upon the coffers of the Old World 

Ghosts of Men, re-writing history 

Red ink, from the well of Martyrdom 

Words to drip from the Traitors Tongues 

Waging a War between the Crimson lines 

The Old Heart of the Earth 

Divided, poisoned, ready for the fall 

Valiant Men, made to wear the Devils Mask 

The Scapegoats for a New Age 

Such words will bear the Fruit of Flesh 

(Today's Innocence), 

Tomorrows Finger on the Trigger 

So, who Heralds the Grace of Fallen Empires? 

Hymns to the Ruination of Majesty 

He who inherits the Dark Crown of ill will 

The Scorn of those deemed Righteous Men 

The Gauntlet thrown, The Baton tossed 

By Statute, by Law, by Divine Decree 

Impositions as Kindling to the fire 

The Old Heart is beating, with Ancient Blood 

[A history passed through generations, through the ravages of time and falsity of spirit, blood remains and the circle remains unbroken, the answer to the future lays in the not too distant and dim past, and as we lay waste to the naysayers and cut the traitors tongues from their very mouths of spectre of history shall loom from the past enriched with the Blood of our Ancestors to pass judgement...]