| Night falls like a guillotine
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| On the living tonight, hoods up an knives out for the terrified
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| Ugly, broke, broken hearted losers hear the cry
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| Split the belly and spill out into the night
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| Black eyes, bloody knuckles and broken bones
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| Carving cryptic epitaphs into the stone
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| Feeding on the screaming like its their last night alive
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| Peeling back the skull’s flesh as the blood fills their eyes
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| Burn away the beautiful in fire red skies
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| Burying the living as the devilhawk flies
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| Moonlight’s a green light, for the devilhawk
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| Sidestep into switchblades, and nail your hope to a cross
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| Locking up the children as they howl at the door
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| Sweaty hands clutching pistols on the bathroom floor
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| Rusted silver crucifixes held tight in hand
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| Remembering religion as you pray for an end
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| Face us, face death, shallow graves
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| Hoods up knives out, end of days
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| The sun rises on mass graves and the hawks feed the vultures for another day |