| And there’s villians in their closets
|
| And theives beneath their beds
|
| And business men in mirrors
|
| With guns against their heads
|
| Stepstools beneath their ankles
|
| Nooses tied around their throats
|
| Sharpening their switchblades
|
| And citing in their scopes
|
| Singing no one sleeps tonight
|
| Till everything is burned
|
| And everyone is sacrificed
|
| No one sleeps tonight
|
| Till everything is burned
|
| And everyone is.
|
| Maxing out their credit cards on ammuntion
|
| They’re polishing their rifles
|
| And they’re polishing their guns
|
| Cause the church is drenched in fire
|
| Townhall’s under attack
|
| They put the hostages, familiar councilmen
|
| They got knives against their backs
|
| No one sleeps tonight
|
| Till everything is burned
|
| And everyone is sacrificed
|
| No one sleeps tonight
|
| Till everything is burned
|
| And everyone is sacrificed
|
| Sacrificed to saves our souls
|
| Or what’s left of them
|
| Desperate hearts
|
| And so they sing
|
| And they sing it loud
|
| And they sing it clearly
|
| For their faith
|
| Whats left of the dreams we had?
|
| Whats left of the hope we had?
|
| Nothing, nothing at all |