Serpent Saints by Entombed
Money, greed and constant fear
The smell of death is everywhere
Got you frozen in your track
And rolling over on your back
You know me, devil inside
You know me godless and wild
You know me, to each his own
But they just won't leave you alone
Sons of the morning
Princes of the world
Black angels of the herd
Part of the system
No way we ain't
We are serpent saints
The little bit of you that got away
Reason lasts but for a while
Kill like it's going out of style
And with a price upon her head
Your mother starts to kook like bread
Sons of the morning
Princes of the world
Black angels of the herd
Part of the system
No way we ain't
We are serpent saints
Redeem the lost tribes
I was buried alive
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