Ours The Grave

Habit rules the
Hearts of all men
Confining force
Past to future
Nothing as sure
As a man's heart
Bound in his ways
Slavery

Wandering the tracks
Of blind custom
Men are not free
Enslaved

Part of the herd
Bleating its song
Bound by the past
All futures set

Cast off the chains that confine
Set free of custom that binds
To be reborn one must pledge
Murder of who one once was

Part of the herd
To be reborn we must
Bleating its song
Pledge to murder ourselves