Doom... Another soul brought to it's fate  Loss... Punishment I create  They are all so thoughtless  Brought down by their own sins.  Run from the sickness that lays in your veins  The dark path forbids you to cure yourself  Your-Self...  Voice of fate, Trembles in fear  As the Mourning Chorus Draws to a close.  Taken a back from your life, Crippled with disease  By the stagnant blood that kills from within  Find the reason or path for the cure you do not know  Punish the few that have the strength to endure it Through  Graves of long dead men  Your end now beacons.  Played out to the end, Could you ask for much more  That this game to be played to a rotten, stinking corpse  There's no life to be gained and the pain is too great  Rotting flesh that remains, Is the final : END OF ME