The dark horse
panic from the masses
Shame on you
for turning batshit
looking in your eyes
can’t find a cure
a method in disguise
your holy is not pure
and we are done
and you are dead
but somehow still rising.
we are gone
and sent to bed
but somehow still fighting.
can’t sleep
don’t wake now
not when he’s here
come to take
all you hold dear.
exposing all your failures
to an epic proportion
dark as night
you’re a social distortion
dance dance dance
you’ve got death on your lips
and you’re screaming
for the 2nd coming
and the Apocalypse
the first born
slaughter’s on you
shame from within
for owning the knife.
can you not wait to die?
what else is this life?
and we are done
and you are dead
but somehow still rising.
we are gone
and sent to bed
but somehow still fighting.
