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AMNESTY LYRICS

Half Hour of Aggression

"Half Hour of Aggression" (2000 Live album)

1. Intro
2. Sadist
3. Slowly We Rot (Obituary)
4. Altars of Wars
5. Darkness in Eden
6. Nameless God
7. Pain in the Last Path
8. South of Heaven (Slayer)







1. Intro




2. Sadist

His pride,
does not permit him to surrender
Vile does not leaves him all the time
Destruction, murders and pain

Sadist creates refuge round oneself
He never will be turned back

Terrible, slaughter, he tills practice of death
Sadistic maniac, here is his name

Serf to own rule
To bloody rule
Among endless days
Fully madness

His vocation is to hold hatchet
To distribute fear and death

Victims caused by him
Did not finish yet to rot
To last forgotten

Confined inside own loneliness
With face cut up with desire

He waits on dawn...




3. Slowly We Rot (Obituary)




4. Altars of Wars

imprisoned in place of madness, on altars of wars
they are puppets in hands greedy politicians
they nust fight in name of false demands
they must be machines to destroy all constructions

supposed victory, born in pain
who is the winner, who to blame?

imprisoned in place of madness, on altars of wars
they must listen absurd, inhuman orders
they must massacre children and all families
their minds are put to trial and torn from feelings

now drops dusk
liters of blood flow to rivers
everywhere lie dead
bodies of innocent people

and only bleeding rain
tears full bitternes

their murderers must kill to survive...




5. Darkness in Eden




6. Nameless God

was a fire in your blood
and with thundering of trumpets
his voice put to tremble
your soul

morbid domination
for satisfaction
who played with false card
nameless god

god!!! in expectation on one's own god
god!!! you did not experience end!

only now you can see truth
every picture tells story
which one powerful you had to be
just now i can feel your pain

convicted on death
you crawl in a puddle of blood
bloody secretions flow out
fro dark crevices of your body




7. Pain in the Last Path

i walk along
paths of my exile
but death
is just half of them

infinite are hours of time
torn out of night

when i lie burning in restless, painful yearning
listen to knocks of pulse, rhythym of my heart
and feels without trouble, that this is last hour
darkness drops fat, throttling with folds

bowls aloud call for poison
in honour this, which not one can see

source does fills quickly
behind the back this, which not one can see




8. South of Heaven (Slayer)

 


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