Lyrics
Martyr, it's not right.
It's a virus to kill off the weak.
Fascist, is this right?
It's a poison we call the elite.
Choose your color well.
We will hunt them down.
Most of us will paint the old faith red.
We will strike them down most of us.
And she swears that she'll shoot you so straight,
but she'll come around to cut you down.
Rapist, is this right?
The tear of the flesh, taste the meat.
Tyrant, it's not right.
Your coated with pride to your feet.
Selective, brainwashing.
The circle is closed to the sun.
Stereotypical.
The masses in lines are the shunned.
Burned bridges will comply
to repair their outcry.
Choose your color well.
We will hunt them down.
Most of us will paint the old faith red.
We will strike them down most of us.
The whisper of the willow
(choose your colors well, we will)
that the haunting of the spirits provide.
They preach for powers sake
and our muscles; they are atrophied.
Time is the only way
to escape the complexity (of a new life)
Can't waste time,
(before this fades away)
can't waste time,
(before it's led astray)
can't waste time,
(before your hand is swayed)
can't waste time,
(before my mind is changed.)
And if you turn your back on us one more time,
forever won't change the lines written.
Can't waste time.
Can't waste time.
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