The sun
Settles in the dust
It is the warmth
In a cold blood lust
Mud riddled boots are worn
Torn
Just like the fuckin mistrust
Done
War

A system
Shit
Anti-establisment
Sick motherfuckers run around
With their heads cut off
A lust for blood
A lust for violence
Runs through their veins
Scravlin' in the dirt
Mud on their clothes
Mud on their faces

We are
Itching to see the other bleed
The blade is dropped
We take advantage
Of the disadvantage
Why do we kill one another
Our brother
On the battlefield
Bleached white with fear

No use crying over me
Even though my sun is gone
I will just complicate you
Confuse what the past has

Let alone, there's nothing to it
Please come, release me from this

No use crying over me
Even though my sun is gone

03/15/2009

Posted on 03/15/2009
Copyright © 2024 Eric Seligmann