FUCK ICE 3 (Iron Fangs) Only the hands of desperate cowards Cling so tightly, grasp this hard Until every life blurs into one Until we are the faces in the crowd When it takes six pathetic slugs To murder only one of us They have to know their days are numbered And coming to the end

How much more righteous I would be Coming on black-tipped wings With eyes that shine with mourning With sword red-tipped with wrath How...

The omens move without words Like water Across the sky From the East Fire in the mouth And from the ending A new beginning A broken bow...