Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Far Cry, artist - BoySetsFire. Album song The Misery Index: Notes From The Plague Years, in the genre Пост-хардкор
Date of issue: 28.01.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Burning Heart
Song language: English
A Far Cry |
Find myself through the sight of a gun |
And selling war never looked so fun |
Stand in line for the latest attraction |
Dressed in murder like it’s hip and in fashion |
Walked in like we own the place |
(Bright light corpse) |
Trigger pressed down, sweat is cold |
(Rain down fire) |
Bodies burn with babies in their arms |
(Love as trash) |
Hope is where the heart can die |
(What we bring) |
Son into heir |
They made me my bed to lie |
Find myself through the sight of a gun |
And selling war never looked so fun |
Stand in line for the latest attraction |
Dressed in murder like it’s hip and in fashion |
Finding ways to be a god |
(Where's my gun) |
Where the blood can drown my soul |
(Rain down fire) |
All I wanted was destination |
(All I got) |
All I got was all I gave |
(Hope as shit) |
Son into heirs |
They made me my bed to lie |
Find myself through the sight of a gun |
And selling war never looked so fun |
Stand in line for the latest attraction |
Dressed in murder like it’s hip and in fashion |
Give up because you’ll never justify the blood on your fingers |
The bullshit look of concern |
The cover ups lie and the bloated corpse |
Of a system that is begging to burn |
Surrender |
Surrender… |
Oh Lord, our father |
My young patriots |
Idols of our hearts |
Go forth to battle |
Be though near them |
With them |
In spirit |
We also go forth from a sweet peace of our beloved fireside |
To smite them both |
Oh Lord, our god |
Help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds |
With our shells |
Help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale warmth |
Of their patriot death |
Help us to drown out the thunder of their guns with shrieks of their wounded |
Writhing in pain |
Help us to lay waste their humble homes |
With hurricanes of fire |
Help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows |
With unavailing grief |
Help us to tear them out roofless |
With their little children |
To wander unafriended |
In the waste of their desolated land and rags |
And hunger and thirst |
Sports of the sun, flames of summer |
And icy winds of winter |
Broken in spirit |
Worn with prevail and pouring |
Need for the refuge of the grave and denied it |
For our sake, who adore thee |
Lord, bless their hopes |
Blight their lives |
Protract their bitter pilgrimage |
Make heavy their steps |
Water their way with tears |
Stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet |
We ask it |
In the spirit of love |
Of Him, who is the source of love |
And who is the ever faithful refuge |
And friend of all that are sore, beset and seek his aid |
With humble and contrite hearts |
Amen |
I want to find the water |
That will wash this whole damn slate clean |
Break down |
Break up |
We sleep in what we create |
Right now, I’m living so much hate |
Right here, my sins have all been paid |
To you |
Your friends |
And for your sake |
Dirty and so depraved |
My knees have bled to hold you here |
But now I’ve lost the taste |
For lies force fed as time well spent |
Right now, I’m living so much hate |
Right here, my sins have all been paid |
To you |
Your friends |
And for your sake |
Dirty and so depraved |
And if another angel says 'Just grin and bear it' |
I might be forced to smash his head |
Against the wall |
And never sin again |
And if another angel says 'Just grin and bear it' |
I might be forced to smash his fucking head |
Against the wall |
And never sin again |
Against myself |
Or trust in anyone |
Write me off |
For suffering |
It’s a joke |
I give up |