this sickness surroundingnit's lurked in us since the fall of man nand at some point we succumb to the truthnwe're all dead men nbut the prophecies have been fulfilledndeaths grip has now been broken nand we are rescued nfrom shames shackles and this immoral oppressionntake off your grave clothes and gono how foolish we look nstanding before our vindicatorndressed in tattered ragsnwe should have left at sins tomb