My grandpa's been telling true lore as it was before all the wars.
He’s been Say'n to my face what’s gone wrong with mans race.
No one listens to the TRUTH. Struth he bellows no ones listening.
You got no ears consumed by fears. “IT’S A SIN TO BREAK THE SKIN”
“DON’T EVER BREAK YOUR PROMISE”
Wake up now you stupid man don't kill your clan.
Don't rape your mother all the land.

From before time “lore” existed. Our lore created the universe, matter
follows vision!
Our lore may not be written, but must be followed! Our lore is without
words.
With out your nightmares, and your dreams how can man see, feel that
which is not real?
How can any thing then be?
Its mans free will that’s four sure, will he make this world heaven,
or has he dreamed himself to hell.
The point of all our lore it can be said no more
That’s a promise.