| We came crashing down, right on time
|
| Like the twenty-ninth of twenty nine
|
| Days spent down on our knees
|
| Watching stolen soil sift through our fingers
|
| So what the fuck are we still waiting for?
|
| For some someone to save us?
|
| For the rains to come?
|
| Watching strong foundations come undone
|
| We’re not waiting for the dust to settle anymore
|
| We’re marching in and we’re kicking down the door
|
| We’re not waiting for the dust to settle anymore
|
| We’re marching in and we’re kicking down the door
|
| Kicking down the door
|
| Kicking down the door
|
| All hope died when the hunger came
|
| First the slender cheeks, and then the sunken eyes
|
| And soon every dirty face just looked the same
|
| Common graves are calling our names
|
| Calling us out of a life plagued by doubt
|
| We used to be so fucking string
|
| Do you remember when we sang those songs together?
|
| Is there no such thing as a heartfelt word
|
| In times of fair weather?
|
| We’re not waiting for the dust to settle anymore
|
| We’re marching in and we’re kicking down the door
|
| We’re not waiting for the dust to settle anymore
|
| We’re marching in and we’re kicking down the door |