Crawling you come to this place
Flat on your face
Weakened to dust by the process of life

Pleading and groaning to live by your own means
You'd kill, kill, kill for the chance to quench
Put out the death (x4)

A world content with pain
It's just a violence game
Crowd around and feed the flame

Choking out the life inside you
Rising smoke from hate
Burning need to un-create

Crippled beggar on the throne of your life
Prostrate you come to this place
Demanding your praise

This idol of contradiction
Lifting your head and your hands
To subject to the lie lest you die

Give what's left to the christ
He paid the debt (x3)
Put out the death