(When) I wander this town of damnation
I can taste tears of incineration
No flames can burn you into salvation
With bitter vengeance's sinful temptation
Who shall cast the first stone of execration
In this necropolis' impure purgation

Of us?

There are no gravestones that will bear their names
No grave will embrace thee nor will hold your remains
Your death reflection burned into memory
So we remember, but shall not speak of thee
Generations branded with fires
And forgotten in self-righteous pyres

We built

Oh more cities, ten-thousand more of names
No absolution in the rage of flames
I roam the meadows in cold November
Yet, my soul burns bright like emerald ember
May it cleanse souls of the men whose wicked hands
Once disturbed the body and souls of this land