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Á¦¸ñ: Ten A.M. (Good Morning, Mr. Coelacanth)
°¡¼ö: Snapcase


The opposition, carcinogenic sweat that hides.
The persecution, these hidden walls keep us aligned.
Yeah, they keep us in line.
Fourteen hours more.
Covert tonight.
The operation, a covert plan to get outside.
The consecration, an archetype of a will that shines.
Shining alive!
Will you die or can we keep you alive?
When there is a machine gun on every corner, you won´t see me.
When there is a federal eye in every household, you won´t see me.
When your every move is monitored, you won´t see me.
And when it´s all too late, you won´t see me.

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Ten A.M. (Good Morning, Mr. Coelacanth)
Snapcase



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