Burn the flag and disunite. Post nuclear children of the aftermath. Have turned the plains to clay. Now they seem to be with the enemy. And they won't stop us from pressuring the wound. The very wound that emitted the residue that feeds us. Post nuclear imagery. The lines are intact for the counterattack. Can you hear the worm is calling. Begging to be released as the choice of our obsession withers away. Now they seem to be with the enemy. And they won't stop us from pressuring the wound. Come on, let's slash our wrists and die tonight. Life's cruel game has been going on. For far too long. A long time,since we faced each other as enemies. As I look upon the plains, I dream the world in sin. A cyanide kiss on the burning roses of evermore. Post nuclear imagery, with the putrid stench of wars of renewal. Will we go out and fight today, I trust on symbols to show me the way. Semi-automatic, the lines intact as the crosshairs mark the counterattack. The aftermath, the clouds bloodred. Let us pray for our salvation. Or perpetual damnation. Come on, let's slash our wrists and die tonight. Life's cruel game has been going on. For far too long. Come on, let's slash our wrists and die tonight. Life's cruel game has been going on. Till the very end of time.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
