Woorden: The Hidden Cameras. The Day Is Dawning.

There's a new day dawning
There's a new day dawning
There's a new day dawning
There's a new day dawning

Day is dawning
Day is dawning
Day is dawning
Day is dawning
Day is dawning
Day is dawning

There's a new day dawning, skulls piled high
Body breathes as crushed by an army but I enjoy how it feels
To be hurt, beaten, broken and demolished
I may never later choose to heal because

The sun is disappearing
And the dark is reappearing on top, on top

There's a pile of old bones in the corner
Entrails in jars on shelves
The shadow over land becomes a cover
It appears as neither black nor pale
The sight of sky in darkness draws an audience
The basement dwellers will go blind because

The sun is disappearing
And the dark is reappearing on top, on top
The sun is disappearing
And the dark is reappearing on top, on top

The work of the father, of my father to build the will to build
Has fallen blindly over all of my recordings
It is the nails driven through the steel
Of an armored army vehicle with an engine's roar
A future coffin where I soon may lie because

The sun is disappearing
And the dark is reappearing on top, on top
The sun is disappearing
And the dark is reappearing on top, on top

The sun is disappearing
And the dark is reappearing on top, on top
On top, on top, on top
The sun is disappearing
And the dark is reappearing on top, on top

On top
On top
On top
...