Wartorn Songtext

These are the debit souls. Force fed notions of nation and bearing rags of sovereigns yet to fall. They play servant to lines in the sane. They are the shrapnel embedded in the womb of history and of all time to come. Wartorn is the unborn, the undead martyr. The life long crucifixion.
This website uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience on our website. Closing this message or scrolling the page you will allow us to use it. Learn more