Dying culturedon't abuse meyou'll need me soonFighting for youI'll tear up you bodiestaste the sweet smell of bloodSlow death I causeand nightmares I bringDying cultureno more money countsonly a fear of senseless prayingDying cultureyour blood's on my handsDying culturewas there an endingwhat was on your mindYour own breed collapsedsuffered from cancerTaste the sweet smell of plagueDying cultureit's the last time i squire the poison of truthinto your swelled bodyDying cultureyour blood's on my handsNo one will stop methe blossom of deathso feel my cape covering mankindDying cultureyour blood's on my handsFuck youdying cultureYour blood's on my hands