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at our feet lay fallen giants in a coffin rests the state
in our fists were clutching tightly key to open fires gate
so shoot the dice and flip the coin tie the noose and back your words
or hide under the blankets when the wolves come out to play
(when i start singing "so shoot the dice..." the yelling is "a sheep in wolves clothing".)

when it's anybodys game will you just cower on the shelf
or sharpen the blade of your sword
the rounds set in the chamber and the tyrants blood runs cold
to fire the bullet first you must pick up the gun.

does the black bandana cloak the bomber or the coward?
does your screaming wreak of protest or dissolve into the crowd?
are we building up a movement or decaying with the state?
when the guns have fallen in our hands we'll have no time to wait.

when it's anybodys game will you just cower on the shelf
or sharpen the blade of your sword
the rounds set in the chamber and the tyrants blood runs cold
to fire the bullet first you must pick up the gun.

muerte policia OR more dead policia

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.