Misfortune Teller - Down

The will was lost

In cities of the dead

The land around them mourned

Too lax to comprehend

The rife of wards

The armies in the skies

The muddled occupied feed

On pseudo-catholic rites

Rise, of the dead

The word upon our heads is «forlorn»

The size, of the dread

Within our padlocked haunts we erode

A grave mistake

We’re right back where we started from

No brave escape

It’s right back here we come

Resent yourself

Misfortune’s law

Is sketched within our chests

The ram’s head has decided

The sheep among us sleep

The layman’s worth

The hole above his head

The tyranny is clear

The floor beneath is gone

Rise, of the dead

The words upon our heads is «forlorn»

The size, of the dread

Within our padlocked haunts we erode

A grave mistake

(We're) right back where we started from

It’s devastating

It’s right back here we come

Resent yourself

A grave mistake

We’re right back where we started from

It’s devastating

It’s right back here we come

Resent yourself