| 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 |