Меню

Protest The Hero - Bury the Hatchet

Bury the Hatchet
Protest The Hero
03:23
Скачать MP3

Текст песни

Place your justice in my palm
And then I'll make fist
Punch your grimaced face
Until every knuckle breaks
And bleeds in resistance
To my sidewalk painting.
A mangled body twitching
And regaining consciousness and closure
Attempting composure before a bullet in the mouth
Answers the questions of exposure
And God of Sunday School façades and paycheques
To validate the time I served abroad.
It all means nothing if I forget why I'm here.
To serve and protect my fist over fist,
Mind under matter career.

That's why a man sounds kind of funny
When he falls to his knees
With his hands on his throat
While he begs you to please spare his life.
While I explain the hardest of bodies
Dulls the softest of knives.

Then I hold up his head
And carve the X's in his eyes.

I swear I have compassion,
I've just been trained to disregard the prisoner's life.
Because I am the prison guard.

Треки исполнителя

Похожие треки