The Only Warmth Is That From Blood

They walk one by one Like sheep to the slaughter Under the blackened sun Red rivers, the blood of martyrs As you walk on death's path Breathe your last breath In the cold, all alone You die in your dark throne Die It's so cold, frigid cold here Your final moments are coming near You'll die slow, alone and in fear For the only warmth here is that from your own blood The only warmth here is that from blood