Wasting away the better part of the day
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In the bus on the docks of the UK
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We walked down the street on that all Hallows Eve
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But couldn't wait to get back to the US of A
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The torture of eight days straight
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Without sight of your face is so frightening
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Hoping to make it straight
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Or find signs of a bite that won't fade like poison
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In London we played half an hour a day
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For a house full of neds who are wanting us dead
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In Glasgow and Leeds we find signs of relief
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An escape from our grief with a fistful of E's
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Eight day hell
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You're in an eight day hell
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Eight Days Of Hell
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| And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead |
