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Fit for an Autopsy - Black Mammoth

Fools gold, siphoned and sold, merchants of death
Dead in spirit, now dead in flesh
Fools gold, siphoned and sold, merchants of death
Dead in spirit, now dead in flesh

Born of violent flames, landscapes of ashes
The roots soak up the rain, burning in acid
The wounds are cauterized, and left un-bandaged
Wilting beneath a sun, withered and damaged

Tragedy reigns forever

The mother weeps in her dying breath
Rise from the ashes
Oh foul Black Mammoth
Dead in spirit, now dead in flesh

Tread on sacred terrain, envenomed and ravaged
The peace upon the plains, seized by the savage
Primitive practices, uproot and vanish
Modern barbarians, new rite of passage


Tragedy reigns forever
Tragedy reigns forever
Tragedy reigns forever

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