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The Chosen Land (Paramaecium)

Over time they've forsaken that great war crime of the ages I dig and toil with bleeding hands and recoil At the thought of mine own sunken faith My own heart is as hard as this land Which has been chosen by the Ancient of Days Over time I embrace all the words sublime of the pages I rend the soil with bleeding hands and recoil At the thought of my life Now as I stand at the edge of the field of Armageddon I understand warfare that's been And wars that are yet to be seen now I understand warfare now Over time I embrace all the words sublime of the pages I rend the soil with bleeding hands and recoil At the thought of mine own sunken faith My own soul is as dry as this land Which has been chosen by the Ancient of Days Over time they've forsaken that great war crime of the ages I dig and toil with bleeding hands and recoil At the thought of these fields of blood turned to dust