Wet soil is soaked through with the blood
Multitudes die under the lead
Missiles and shells for greater good
Show is sold out; crows will be fed

Green of my shirt's lost in the woods
White of my cloak's lost in the snow
But I bleed red just like you do
'nd perish I will just like my foe

Nothing I can see but the warplanes there
Bread and circuses, might makes right

That old sun up high only blinds me now
But I've lost the taste for the sky

I pray the sky
Bane my old eyes
Drown in your milk
Strangle with silk
So I don't see
This fucked up shit
Is the end nigh?
I'll miss it this time

Nothing I can see but the warplanes there
Bread and circuses, might makes right

I pray the sky
Bane my old eyes

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