| Take me to the water
|
| Where the river meets the sea
|
| Let the memory of rising tide
|
| Come washing over me
|
| I saw fire consume the trusting
|
| With the victims still naive
|
| And so they bleed
|
| And so they bleed
|
| Take me to the tower
|
| Where false gods reside in peace
|
| Let them wither from the inside
|
| Watch their adoration cease
|
| Now with no more heroes left
|
| To cull the chaff among the streets
|
| The gates release
|
| The gates release
|
| Sing in grief, a requiem
|
| The curse of our millennium
|
| These souls keep whispering from the river beds
|
| An end to all these violent means
|
| Alive in these red water dreams
|
| Their haunted burdens stirring in my head
|
| On streets still running red
|
| Vicious thoughts are stirring
|
| And I hunger for their power
|
| Just to taste the opportunity
|
| To watch the elders cower
|
| When the waters fall below the ruins
|
| They’ll see their final hour
|
| But rain still showers
|
| The rain still showers
|
| Take me as the vessel
|
| To infect the whole charade
|
| I’ve come much too far to accept
|
| This society they’ve made
|
| In the corner of the wasteland
|
| Under storms of acid rain
|
| The last remain
|
| The last remain
|
| Sing in grief, a requiem
|
| The curse of our millennium
|
| These souls keep whispering from the river beds
|
| An end to all these violent means
|
| Alive in these red water dreams
|
| Their haunted burdens stirring in my head
|
| On streets still running red
|
| On streets still running red
|
| Most went in the flood
|
| A few were martyred by the flames
|
| Yet those who unleashed the waters
|
| Are still guilty all the same
|
| When the ignorance of puppets
|
| Serves the master’s larger game
|
| They let it rain
|
| They let it rain
|
| When I get the chance to rise
|
| I’ll find the light in their cold eyes
|
| Or lose myself and carry out revenge
|
| The righteous hunt has just begun
|
| The dimming of the bleeding sun
|
| Will let these waters run clear once again
|
| Sing in grief, a requiem
|
| The curse of our millennium
|
| These souls keep whispering from the river beds
|
| An end to all these violent means
|
| Alive in these red water dreams
|
| Their haunted burdens stirring in my head
|
| On streets still running red |