Wicked - The Hand of God

This is a cold and hostile place of where we are
Life is nothing else except an endless war
The Hand of God summons every of our chains
The way I feel there is no bliss, just pain!

The
Hand
of
God

No brighter days
Just time of decays
For the fools to their chains
For them, only death remains

No salvation without a fight
You have to pierce through the night
Remove the tied off your neck
Your freedom when authority breaks

This is a sharp and foreign land made of ice
Everything happens by the rolling dice
The Hand of God summons outter chains
For you to feel nothing else but inner pain

The
Hand
of
God