Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: London After Midnight. America's a Fucking Disease (Edit).

They want to tell you what to think.
They want to tell you what to feel.
They want to tell you what is right
and what is wrong.
They want to tell you what is real.

What ever happened to us?
What ever happened to love?
We were the real thing.
We were the real thing.

America's a fucking disease.
You're on your back and down on your knees.
They question what you want to believe.
No question what you want to believe.

Are you afraid of the truth?
Are you afraid what you'd find?
Are you happy in denial?
Are you happy being blind?

Love turned to vanity.
Truth turned hypocrisy.
We were the real thing,
now we are nothing.

America's a fucking disease.
You're on your back and down on your knees.
They question what you want to believe.
No question what you want to believe.

And you won't ever see the truth.
You can't be questioned if you're strong.
And you won't ever stop to think,
if what you've done is right or wrong.
Because you're on the side of God,
and you've crowned yourself a king.
But when you're not among your little sheep,
you just don't understand a thing.

Love turned to vanity.
Truth turned hypocrisy.
We were the real thing,
now we are nothing.

America's a fucking disease.
You're on your back and down on your knees.
They question what you want to believe.
No question what you want to believe.

America, America.
America, America.
America, America.
America,
America's a fucking disease