Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Futile, artist - Toothgrinder. Album song Phantom Amour, in the genre Date of issue: 09.11.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Spinefarm Records
Song language: English
Futile |
| You are, we are |
| The vision of truth |
| Can you hear me? |
| Hear my cadence call all through the night |
| We’re putting it out there for you |
| The victim, the hunter, the shrew |
| We have become |
| The destruction of masses |
| The parade of ashes |
| For the cause, for the case, for the coup |
| Be free, our own paradise |
| Live free, these are our homes our lives |
| I will grip my tongue and we will say it so fruitful |
| Surrender to the gun |
| We’ll empower the hopeful |
| And plead to the rising Sun |
| We’re singing the anthem of youth |
| The outcast, the lover, the truth |
| Don’t lose sight of |
| The production of power |
| The angle, its hour |
| For the blood, for the pain, for the noose |
| Freedom is the truth |
| Be free, our own paradise |
| Live free, these are our homes our lives |
| Hear my heart, now now let’s ride the blues |
| Look into my head, now kick off your shoes |
| Every lick and step that keeps me awake |
| We’re on our own so let’s move |
| We see with our hearts and third eyes |
| You know there’s nothing like a moment we all fantasize |
| Like a lick, like a shred, like a pattern of threads |
| And if these holy notes only stand alone then we’re better off dead |
| I’m tearing my eyes out again and again |
| I’m throwing my soul out, three sheets to the wind |
| This quandary in my life, I don’t give a shit |
| The futile possess so that we plead the fifth |
| We’re all alone, we’re red throughout |
| Now break these bones, I’ll twist and shout |
| We’re out for the kill |
| With the thoughts of the truest of minds |
| Construct, create, conflate |
| Medicate, meditate, contrive |
| Be free, our own paradise |
| Live free, these are our homes our lives |
| The production of power |
| The angle, it’s hour |
| You will always be |
| The victim, the hunter, the shrew |
| I’m tearing my eyes out again and again |
| I’m throwing my soul out, three sheets to the wind |
| This quandary in my life, I don’t give a shit |
| The futile possess so that we plead the fifth |