Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Set My Face Like Flint , by - Fallstar. Song from the album Backdraft, in the genre Пост-хардкорRelease date: 15.04.2013
Record label: Facedown
Song language: English
Set My Face Like Flint |
| The standard will not be met with election |
| Our King is not their king |
| I met the man, I saw the face |
| I moved erratic, evasive, evasive |
| We’re the dreaded backdraft of the arsonist King |
| We’re the dreaded backdraft of the arsonist King |
| Long live the King |
| Come, come will you go? |
| Let’s go! |
| Go, go, go |
| Turn back and you’ll never know |
| What it feels to burn like sun spot fire storms |
| Slaves to golden fumes |
| Come, come will you go? |
| Let’s go! |
| Go, go, go |
| Turn back and you’ll never know |
| How it feels to have your voice like a Glock snap, click back |
| Clearing out the room |
| The standard will not be met with a capitalist |
| Our King is not their king |
| I offered up my back |
| To those who beat me and spit in my face |
| I will not hide my face from you |
| I will not hide my face from you |
| I will not be put to shame |
| I will not be put to shame |
| Therefore I will set my face like flint |
| I will not be disgraced |
| I will not be put to shame |
| I will not be put to shame |
| Therefore I will set my face like flint |
| I will not be disgraced |
| I set my face like flint |
| Set my face like flint |
| I set my face |
| He pulled me out of the streets |
| He slammed my veins with kerosene |
| Bulimic fingers found the Ghost |
| And now I can’t stop heaving |
| I have been leaking on the floor |
| You could call it bleeding |
| No time to stitch me up |
| This dead man walks |
| Bury me |
| Death couldn’t hold my King |
| Bury me |
| And it cannot hold me |
| We’re the dreaded backdraft of the arsonist King |
| We’re the dreaded backdraft of the arsonist King |
| Come, come will you go? |
| Let’s go! |
| Go, go, go |
| Turn back and you’ll never know |
| What it feels to burn like sun spot fire storms |
| Slaves to golden fumes |
| Come, come will you go? |
| Let’s go! |
| Go, go, go |
| Turn back and you’ll never know |
| How it feels to have your voice like a Glock snap, click back |
| Clearing out the room |
| Long live the King |