✕
Original
paroles de Easter Tiding, At War
Sitting, eating rats* in a barren hill
Everything so brown and beaten down
Easter Sunday this holy day
No plastic-egg laden trees here
The stench of diesel fumes and rot
Spent nitrates fill the air
Twisted wrecked and bloody bodies
Strewn about like 52 cards
This place where mortal men
Mock their god with contempt
Creating a hell on earth
Usurping celestial powers
To be pledging youth's malevelence
The destruction of men of life
Without concern or compassion
In the dusty winds of time
These grounds of destruction
Where God has been forsaken
Goodness buried deep in the dust
Beneath the ruins of civilization
Those hopes and aspirations once
Overtaken by fanatical destruction
A malevent force with no benefactor
Corrupted that find only corruption
Only time progresses to erase
The brevity of men and ideas
A place where evil forces thrive
And finally cannot prevail
Men have forgotten their purpose
The belief of creative hope
Their gods created in belief
Forsaken by their barbaric vices
Deities born of mens' aspirations
The goodness of mankind universal
Only those taught wrong fight
An erred combat of tainted ideals
Where is the hope in tomorrow
When men have no wish to live
To think with a clear mind
And question why the others stay
There is no great legacy to be
A martyr, forgotten tomorrow
Nameless souls have no joy
When families weep in sorrow
None can touch a flower's petal
That lay bloodless in barren soil
Where there they make their legacy
Contributing to lifeless dirt
Ww WwWw Ww: Top 3
| 1. | Misericordia quid |
| 2. | Mariupol In War |
| 3. | 1984 |
Commentaires
*rats are rations.