Obey your feral instincts;
Your only chance is in
The cowards and the runners,
Who know this is the end.

Cold and bright hellfire –
It’ll brand into your skin…
We know why you’re running;
We know where you’ve been.

You reek of guilt and the guilty – 
The stench is in your blood;
We know where you’ve spent it;
We know what you’ve done.

You could have followed cowards;
They had the sense to fly –
The runners fled in terror;
They will live and long survive.

You, brave one - we’ll hunt you…
We will tear you from your home.
Try and pray to heathen demons,
But in the end you stand alone. 

We’ll find you and we’ll break you;
The hunters always win.
We’ll make sure the devil’s fire
Brands into your skin.