آهنگ: The Gang. Clyde Warrior & Jessy Colt.
Control towers stab
the empty sundown
The verdicts brand
innocent or guity?
In the time of the waged sacrifice
only fakis can keep their balance
on the edge of the bladers of hate
Day by day mafia kisses
suck and bite the soul of the king
with the crown of thorns
during the siege. It?s the final round!
when punches don?t hurt but scars
open as you just graze them
If the fate has been a liar
there?s alwais time
to revenge I pointed high
the finger to find the Key
of the prison of the Tiger
TV-wiches are in ambush
on the tracks of the Black Eagle
vision of the end of century
The rain wipes out the tracks of the day
The candidate to the torture gives away
girls to be hanged on the wall
The damned race pays the most
expensive ticked in order to travel
on the economy class of the train of capitalism
The idols came back in the pack
towards new battle fields no shelter from
the struggle for a new throne
If the fate?
The night might be born
from the womb of the western world
the assembly lines fall down. Shot! In the heart
hands out stretched because of an electric dream
trouble the luck of the games has changed hands
is that the terror of the state shuffing the cards
The firing squad sheds its old skin
while my mother weighs her problems with every ad.
Clyde & Jessy are ready
to empty all the banks in town
Good luck! everything?s ok for
Clide Warrior & Jessy Colt
If the fate?
the empty sundown
The verdicts brand
innocent or guity?
In the time of the waged sacrifice
only fakis can keep their balance
on the edge of the bladers of hate
Day by day mafia kisses
suck and bite the soul of the king
with the crown of thorns
during the siege. It?s the final round!
when punches don?t hurt but scars
open as you just graze them
If the fate has been a liar
there?s alwais time
to revenge I pointed high
the finger to find the Key
of the prison of the Tiger
TV-wiches are in ambush
on the tracks of the Black Eagle
vision of the end of century
The rain wipes out the tracks of the day
The candidate to the torture gives away
girls to be hanged on the wall
The damned race pays the most
expensive ticked in order to travel
on the economy class of the train of capitalism
The idols came back in the pack
towards new battle fields no shelter from
the struggle for a new throne
If the fate?
The night might be born
from the womb of the western world
the assembly lines fall down. Shot! In the heart
hands out stretched because of an electric dream
trouble the luck of the games has changed hands
is that the terror of the state shuffing the cards
The firing squad sheds its old skin
while my mother weighs her problems with every ad.
Clyde & Jessy are ready
to empty all the banks in town
Good luck! everything?s ok for
Clide Warrior & Jessy Colt
If the fate?
The Gang
The Gang
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