Pockets of violence, a hundred strong, wanton destruction where you don't belong. Society's failure, your reason being, you own contribution devoid of meaning.
A community sponge, sucking off the state, leaching from those on the narrow and straight Fighting for a cause is what we believe, the small fragile minds find hard to conceive
Blood has paved the streets, your mission still unclear, aimless thievery, our nation sheds a tear
Arise all those, who will give, the time to assist Bring us, the heads of-the-ones, that cease to exist As an empire, we feel, the weakest punishment is death The great descendants will brand you a sycophant, sycophant.
A renegade army of Old and young, a punch in the face to our hero's unsung Poor judgement are how your choices are based, your ignorance is far from erased. Blood has paved the streets, your mission still unclear, aimless thievery, our nation sheds a tear
Arise all those, who will give, the time to assist Bring us, the heads of-the-ones, that cease to exist As an empire, we feel, the weakest punishment is death The great descendants will brand you a sycophant, sycophant.
Society's failure, is how we see you thus far. A sycophant, forever branded is what you are.
Blood has paved the streets, your mission still unclear, aimless thievery, our nation sheds a tear Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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