It's true what they say - the world's a mess and deserves no quarter,
And it's true you're out of my depth, your drowning in shallow water.
I'm not deluded, I am not deceived - I am not taken with your mystery!
Let revelation stock the world, unfurl the raging sea - let the tempest rise tonight and set the beast within free.
Another crisis, another fear - another prophecy to declare one more tirade,
Another lie - another reason to despise.
I'm not deluded, I am not deceived - I am not taken with your mystery!
With eyes of the cobra that spit out death,
Like a shark coming from the black depths,
And we'll die as it all once began - like a burning fire brand.
So tear at the sky with razor sharp talons.
Lacerate, fly high - burn!
Writer(s): Bemrose Keith, Gray Ian
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