Woorden: A Plea For Purging. Shiver.

Cheap steps make for easy regrets but keep your words of contempt.
You are no friend, my enemy, you tear me down, keep me weak.
I wear no crown of weakness, His is no crown of weakness.
I wear no crown of weakness, hide in your own contempt.
Iron sharpen iron but your judgments dulling me.
I answer to no man.
You're no gods or masters of this world.
Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe I'm damned.
I pray I don't wake up in hell.
If I were God we'd all be dead.
The devil's hands have been busy.
Grace sustains but I thirst for revenge.
The world would be destroyed if I were God.
Demons are fallen angels.
Remember that when you think of a saint.
Fallen angels I'm coming for your wings.
Fallen angels I'll cut off your wings.
Lord knows I'm a cynic but won't give up, won't give in.
Lord knows I'm a cynic but I won't give up without a fight.
The devil's hands have been busy.
Turning liars to masters, demons to gods.
But we're no gods, we're no masters.
We're only fallen angels in this world.