Aesthetics of Hate - Machine Head

You tried to spit in the eye of a dead man’s face

Attacked the ways of a man not yet in his grave

But your hate was over all too soon

Because nothing is over, and nothing’s through

'Til we bury you

For the love of brother

I will sing this fucking song

Aesthetics Of Hate

I hope you rot in hell

The words I read on the screen left me fucking sick

I felt the hatred rising, you son of a bitch

You branded us pathetic for our respect

But he made us Driven

Such deep reverence

Far beyond the rest

For the love of brother

I will say these fucking words

Aesthetics Of Hate

I hope you burn in hell

Long live memories

Live his freedom vicariously

Defend tenfold

His honor we’ll always uphold

For the love of brother I will

Say these fucking words

No silence against ignorance

Iconoclast, I hope you burn!

Burn!

In!

Hell!

May the hands of God strike them down

May the hands of God strike them down

May the hands of God strike them down

May the hands of God…

…Strike…

…Down

Strike… Down

Oh!

May the hands of God strike them down!

May the hands of God strike them down!

May the hands of God strike them down!

May the hands of God!

Strike!

Down!