Woorden: Dead Confederate. All the Angels.

Dead stares and spite, Gaze across the line
Got to be the eyes with the upper hand
Cut like a knife, Bleed innocent life
Cover your lies and watch the bombs explode
Catch wind and sail, Breathe in the smell
Warm in your bed, watch their homes burn
Maybe you can sell, All the ugly details
Turning tricks in hell when you get there
This is not a white flag for you, no peace accord to read
I can't imagine, how do you sleep knowing all the angels
They are doomed to clean all your blood from the street?
Spread what your told, Black hearts black souls
Drink the bottle and throw it on the fire
Take what they have, If the devil he says
How could he be wrong, if you're just like him?
Overlook the signs, Know your place in line
Be a good citizen and shut the fuck up
Here, I got some news, Here comes the spoon
Your choices are few, your freedom's covered up