| First in, last out, overthrown
|
| It’s been picked clean to the bone
|
| And so hard to remember things
|
| Like when we used to kill our kings
|
| Crusading for hypocrisy
|
| Under our nose the holy bleed
|
| Crumbling under its own weight
|
| Apologies if you relate
|
| Cause you cannot kill
|
| What doesn’t die
|
| Live up to my promise
|
| My full potential realised
|
| Death lives right inside your pocket
|
| Take him out and have a laugh
|
| Go and piss your life away
|
| Another ugly waste of clay
|
| And up above there’s no-one home
|
| Why don’t you answer your phone?
|
| Reminding me to learn that poem
|
| First in, last out, overthrown
|
| Cause you cannot kill
|
| What doesn’t die
|
| Live up to my promise
|
| My full potential realised
|
| You cannot kill
|
| What doesn’t die
|
| Live up to my promise
|
| My full potential realised
|
| A stream of consciousness flows
|
| Into a river of blood
|
| Stem this tide of violence
|
| As it rises like a flood
|
| A stream of consciousness flows
|
| Into a river of blood
|
| Stem this tide of violence
|
| As it rises like a flood
|
| A stream of consciousness flows
|
| Into a river of blood
|
| Stem this tide of violence
|
| As it rises like a flood
|
| A stream of consciousness flows
|
| Into a river of blood
|
| What doesn’t die
|
| Stem this tide of violence
|
| As it rises like a flood
|
| A stream of consciousness flows
|
| Into a river of blood
|
| What doesn’t die
|
| Stem this tide of violence
|
| As it rises like a flood
|
| You cannot kill
|
| What doesn’t die
|
| Live up to my promise
|
| My full potential realised
|
| You cannot kill
|
| What doesn’t die
|
| Live up to my promise
|
| My full potential realised |