Grime

Grime

No one gets out alive,
If one true thing you take away,
Let it be the grime.
The guts in your teeth will say,
What feral man you’ve bestially bit,
And what foul game you’ve preyed.
Stalking in midnight fits,
We’ve lurked in twilight, you and I,
Defied while the moon was lit.
We’ve torn through our foes,
As they’ve ripped open our friends,
Soaked in blood, reckoning woes.
We’ve escaped our end,
At times by chance, at times by fate,
But a man must contend.
There is no life without war,
There is no death without a hate,
We know what the fighting is for.
Death to the gods! We shout,
No more lies so we paint on the grime,
The ichor will out.
We pin ‘em to the hilt,
No exit without a fight,
Death to every idol built.
Sober up, wipe your eye,
We’re in the grime, you and I,
In the grime, you and I.