Land of treason-waste no reason-
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we are breathing fire
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We're packs of dogs-
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we're enemies of men-we are not desired
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Our faces show-
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we've grown so cold-but
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have not conspired
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Old hearts gone-
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the future's on-mother nations mired
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I like a recepticle for the chosen dead,
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we find our bodies clawed
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And with the scent of death,
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we find that we are not so very awed
|
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Loyalties burned-
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the words are blurred-overturn your own
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Walk like dogs and watch the doors-
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have your other stone
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Stop the toys that march disordered-
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calculate the thrones
|
Feel the pulse descending-
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decaying hallowed tomes
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In the starving sense you worship-
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the nations of debris
|
You wear a coat of sewage-
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that you've never ever seen
|
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The time is now-the vicious here-
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a stolen dinner code
|
The license of the savage land-
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that you've always sold
|
So bite the hand that needs you
|
and bless another coal
|
The virus never issues-
|
from a cotton so very old
|
As the lights come down
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You wash your hands and start to climb
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the ladder that you stole
|
Slip the hatch-and spin the sword-
|
the money lords are poor
|
Push the tan-that rolls downhill-
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their sense of dream absorbed
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Still the cat that breaks the night-
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tie him to the core
|
Chase the viruses that believe-
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that what's right is scored
|
It's a senseless cash in of right for right-
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what's wrong is never gone
|
And left is just a bastion for the fools
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golden dawn
|
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Land Of Treason
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Germs |