Teksty: The Rebel Spell. Days Of Rage. Sullied Graves.

The strobe of explosions lights the terror on your face and I can't see my feet through the dust that chokes these streets. When it all has settled they'll find bodies that don't exist though we've repeatedly been told that were safer in this place. Hold my hand dear sister they can't fall like this forever. Run! run. Run! run. The bombers aren't like soldiers they havent got their own minds but they were fueled and reloaded. How's it going to end? If this ever ends, I imagine whole armies on trial. If this ever ends, I imagine whole armies on trial. Your guilty by your apathy and complicint by your simpilcity. So don't try to blow it off. It's too far beyond your means. I'll repeat myself till these ideas are heard. I'll write about disorder and murder driven by simple greed. Now change places and I'm still not awake and landing lights brush past my face, a soldier here I feed the planes. Illuminated by diodes close enough to burn my skin. There is also a pale yellow glow that comes from within. "Snap out of it kid! You're gonna lose your head!"/"Stupid mother fucker! I never owned it anyway!" The big bomber is fuelled and the turbines whine. Its dirty claws rake at the sky. Scars in the forms of jet streams. If this ever ends, I imagine whole armies on trial. If this ever ends, I imagine whole armies on trial. Your guilty by your apathy and complicint by your simpilcity. So don't try to blow it off. It's too far beyond your means. I'll repeat myself till these ideas are heard. I'll write about disorder and murder driven by simple greed. Oh tell me not to leave for the hills, this place is lost we're gonna let 'em burn. I'll take the kind, we'll save ourselves but leave the trapped to die. I know that's not right. It seems we're overrun and this chapter's nearly closed. It can't happen fast enough, its all gotta go. Giving up on everything is as bad as giving in. You've got a voice! Lets hear you through it in! All the tired skeptics say how's it gonna end? If this ever ends, I imagine whole armies on trial. If this ever ends, I imagine whole armies on trial. Your guilty by your apathy and complicint by your simpilcity. So don't try to blow it off. It's too far beyond your means. I'll repeat myself till these ideas are heard. I'll write about disorder and murder driven by simple greed. Don't accept your place where slavery is sold as freedom, while children beg for water. Lay down your arms when those who follow orders, like they're not responsible, lay is shallow sullied graves.