For all this fire we never heard
|
shanks round the bend
|
when you're foaming at the rim
|
|
On your serrated edge
|
you're like a snail that's dead
|
the hiss I make is warning to the scalpel
|
|
When you walk the plank, tell me what you see
|
Moloch in the time of mutiny
|
|
When the body wants to fix this frame
|
a guilty presence starts to fill our cape
|
born into the strangle, fists around the neck
|
The hiss I make is warning with extreme prejudice
|
|
When you walk the plank, tell me what you see
|
Moloch in the time of mutiny
|
|
Half of the time
|
murdering clean
|
standing in filth
|
gets no relief
|
|
Half of the time
|
murdering clean
|
don't roll your eyes
|
standing empty
|
|
Where I'm going
|
you've taken your sign
|
stand on your own
|
standing empty
|
|
What answer until now
|
must you give?
|
|
Won't you tell my fingers
|
to spell extinction?
|
|
-----------------
|
Molochwalker
|
Mars Volta |