Grinding ears, metal hearts and hands clasped in prayer,

to chrome steel gods.

Raging fists punch sparks into the air,

As anvil heads hammer to the tuning fork and sheer blasts

of class – stained forever since being 10.

Stamped and delivered,

Living it up after midnight,

Whilst breaking laws of the so called pop charts.

Screaming for vengeance against industry norms,

The pomp, the pose and the plastic.

The kiss of Judas, forged from wrought iron cores,

melton by the sun,

this opus of heavy metal

continues to live on and on and on.