Ironic sensation, ironic delay Whole generation means nothing to me Others they are different sort Blood in their eyes is hard to control
Danger to us, all we stand for Has come to our near, knocked at our door
In the dark of night their razor blades To kill us all in our sleep But the great eye saw it all It did warn us of their secret goal
They seemed like our friends, they liked our gods But power they want, to enslave us all Take our prizes, pride and joy, To have our children as their toys
In the dark of night their razor blades To kill us all in our sleep But the great eye saw it all It did warn us of their secret goal
In the flames of suffering they burn and yell Mercy they want hot steel they get Brutal force of our dominion Cuts the flash of the others rebelion
No one Shall take What was OursTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
