Wears 10 crowns, dragons heads
Southern are the sons, Lords unmatched
- Their eyes don´t look right, should they be trusted now?
Trashed-mouth Gods, avoided kings
With the spirit of revolt, the ghost of youth

Every fucking year it stays the same
Everybody changes to suit the day
Out of pride I´ll isolate my fears
Never turned our backs on why we´re here
We´ll grind that axe for a long time

Follow close, train of fools
Just like them, just like you
- Their eyes don´t seem right.
"Easily impressed" plague, dressed up fake
No respect

Every fucking year remains the same
Everybody sucks-up to suit the day
Out of hate I´ll isolate myself
Through the worst we still marched into hell
We´ll grind that axe for a long time
The smell in the air is chicken shit.

We´ll grind that axe for a long time

Every fucking song remains the same
To everyone who sucks-up for the fame
Out of strength you know we speak the truth
Every trend that dies is living proof
We´ll grind that axe for a long time