Из альбома: Breeding the Spawn
The servant of the higher power is summoned by the emptiness of the
lost souls. With wings extended, it sweeps across the land looking
for it's helpless victims. The young and old are it's prey; the ones
not strong enough to survive. With blood dripping from it's talons
and flesh between it fingers, it feast upon human prey. Fetuses
decorated with blood. Wombs torn from their mothers; the beast has
no feelings. It sees no remorse and pities the hopeless. It's meal
vast and plentiful, for there are many to feed upon. You see, there
are too many who have no need to live and something has to clean it
up. It comes with no warning and takes what is his. The old try to
find their way through God. Yet they are following a lost cause. You
see, in this world, he is God. No God can save you from him. The
beast was called by your so called God to clean up what has been
destroyed by the race that inhabits this planet. The beast is full
and the weak are scattered among the litter and trash.