the air my lungs first loved
|
carves craters from my eyes
|
they said "breathe deeply son
|
or be the next to die"
|
|
Beneath the falling night
|
and heaven's shutting gate
|
pray keep your tongue held tight
|
or suffer the same fate
|
|
the blood on our black gloves
|
it is none of your concern
|
if you want to call our bluff
|
get in line and wait your turn
|
and watch the witches burn"
|
|
Don't flinch when innocents
|
are dancing with the flame
|
if they wanted to live
|
they'd learn to play the game
|
|
You can still walk away
|
if you just hold your tongue
|
if you'd just walk away
|
you'd live to see the sun but"
|
|
Under this killing moon
|
under this burning sky
|
the fire's shining groom
|
I hold my breath and close my eyes
|
|
"The blood on our black gloves
|
it is none of your concern
|
if you want to call our bluff
|
get in line and wait your turn
|
and watch the witches burn
|
we'll watch the witches burn"
|
|
-----------------
|
Under A Killing Moon
|
Thrice |