Hounds Ditch-Orange Goblin

Have mercy on the city, she's a dying whore I never said these streets were paved with gold The shallow graves are overflowing and the Thames runs red Is this enough to make your blood run cold? Cracked skin and sunken eyes demand a special hold Upon the angels coming judgement day Dead hounds and a triple-horned messiah Motion for redemption in the ripper's way Running faster than the sands of time, the lambs conspire To raise the omens of an unknown faith The devil's virtues overpowering the wrath of God And twist the blade upon the human race The wolf is loose and in this city it's a fatal flaw To see the beast under a funeral moon Can't shake the paranoia that the end is nigh When you're spoiling in a lousy tomb Healing Through Fire Healing Through Fire Healing Through Fire Healing Through Fire Ghosts of the hounds start to rise in their packs Hunting the blood that they crave Like serpents that coil through the streets in the night You prey for your life to be saved Howling like banshees, so full of despair A death knell to all that they cross Diseased and deranged like the pit hounds of hell Devouring the flesh of the lost Cursed are the wicked and blessed are the sick They see not the evil at hand Animals rising from ash covered tombs For vengeance upon every man Snarling with vehemence, they beckon the thaw Feeding on souls of the broke Ditches and churchyards will crawl with the rats That feed on their throats till they choke