1. |
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Under the flags of our own private hells
A broken nation of liars dwells
On a past that can never be changed
Into a shape that bears the crosses of our days
Staring back
To deny
To lie
To be numb
And follow
To lie through our teeth
Shedding tears of sorrow
Chanting the anthems of our history
A generation of vultures feels sorry
About a past that can never be shaped
Into reality within these spiteful days
Staring back
To deny
To lie
To be blind
And follow
Bearing the burdens of a history
We will never really know
In the footsteps of broken histories
This dying nation won’t compromise
To shape the unshapeable
Into a form that can justify
The anger
The desperation
The hatred
All the lies that we’ve been fed
All the lies that misled
Us to paths where we deny
Our very existence
And we’re hung to dry
(With) images of a past
Like weight upon our shoulders
(With) images of a present
Where we bleed over the borders
Drawn in blood and pain
(With) images of a future
Where we take an oath to flags
And ideals of disgrace
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2. |
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3. |
WASTED STRUGGLE Cycles
04:59
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He is disillusioned with his life
More and more frustrated and paralyzed
Every day he walks the same way home
Feeling alone and abandoned
His skin is pale and grey
Has not slept for days
Storming - seeds of hate
He's all alone and withering
Blaming - blaming god
Every night he dreams about
Burning this city to the ground
Can't remember when it all began
He promised he will start again
Time, time is passing by
He will start again - start from the beginning
After a long day
He supresses hate
Crashed and crumbled
He can't live in here
He's feeling tired
It's time to release
All that breaks the cycle
Is self destruction
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4. |
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