Misanthropy - Hiss From The Moat

We are the gates of misanthropy

The land of the trembling ghost

With no honour, no face

Tormented from hating the race

The land of hate governed

From who brings pain and despair

In the land of the living

Traitors

Half woman, half rot

Daughter of

The premonition of evil

Will bring all the infants

Where the throne will be pain

The canteen will be famine

And their table of rest

Will be exhaustion and illness

She who hates

And if they betray

Hang them on crosses and let the birds eat

Them to death

And if they betray

Hang then on crosses and let the sun have

Them for hell

I am the lord of the flies

I am the prince of the demons

I am the king of the damned

I’m misanthropy

Governed from who brings pain and despair

And will bring all the infants

Where the throne will be pain

The canteen will be famine

She who hates

She who hates