Virtues of blood Follows through Bleeding our shadows For hundrerds of miles For tattered and torn Wound upon wound For less of force Grow to or sever Brushing my teeth From the wounds Ending a curse Disemble, the world Disemble, humanity (humanity) Right is the Hand Rewarding, our son Clutching the scepter of a real god Drunken with grief And sorrows For us who live in the shade We wander Limb from limb Virtues of blood Follows through Bleeding our shadows For hundreds of miles For tattered and torn Wound upon wound