Spawn Of Perfection

Of Buried Hopes

Compositor: Não Disponível

Money with the smell of blood
In your hands is becoming dirt.
Hear this moans again,
Now this moans are damnation.
Rage with every scar
Defeats their fear and faith.
They are breathing the death,
They deify every sunset.
Time is drawing borders,
Separating all to parts.
Humans try to reach perfection,
But they always want to rule.
Time to believe in magic,
If you know the price of freedom.
Time will uncover lies,
Time is the best reward.

To scream, to suffer, to cry for money
Unmask their faces - unleash their lies.
By this black shining, they will be blinded.

This day will leave just ashes,
Dirt and spots of blood at their feet.
Soon they will unmask their faces
And will tell their names to us all.

Many years of hate and suffering,
Years of standing on the glass.
Many years to fight for freedom,
Years of waiting for the end.

Many years to believe in nothing,
Years of emptiness and fear.
Many years without chances,
Years of nothingness and pain.