| It doesn’t matter if we all die
|
| Ambition in the back of a black car
|
| In a high building there is so much to do Going home time
|
| A story on the radio
|
| Something small falls out of your mouth
|
| And we laugh
|
| A prayer for something better
|
| A prayer
|
| For something better
|
| Please love me Meet my mother
|
| But the fear takes hold
|
| Creeping up the stairs in the dark
|
| Waiting for the death blow
|
| Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
|
| Fighting for freedom on the television
|
| Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
|
| Have we got everything?
|
| She struggles to get away…
|
| The pain
|
| And the creeping feeling
|
| A little black haired girl
|
| Waiting for saturday
|
| The death of her father pushing her
|
| Pushing her white face into the mirror
|
| Aching inside me And turn me around
|
| Just like the old days
|
| Just like the old days
|
| Caressing an old man
|
| And painting a lifeless face
|
| Just a piece of new meat in a clean room
|
| The soldiers close in under a yellow moon
|
| All shadows and deliverance
|
| Under a black flag
|
| A hundred years of blood
|
| Crimson
|
| The ribbon tightens around my throat
|
| I open my mouth
|
| And my head bursts open
|
| A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
|
| Thrashing in the water
|
| Over and over
|
| We die one after the other
|
| Over and over
|
| We die one after the other after the other
|
| It feels like a hundred years
|
| One hundred years |