Slaves

Gospel of the Horns

Like the wicked rule the weak 
Like all conquerors have their keep 
I'll tear my marks into your arms 
Paralyzed but still you're charmed 
Like the great white circles it's prey 
I rise above their deceiving ways 
Liars... 
Your hollow words play a hollow tune 

My eyes fueled the flames 
As i'm dancing, on your grave 

Like the great white circles it's prey 
Desert sands, mourning souls... 
I'll tear my marks into your arms 
Paralyzed yet still you're charmed 
Like the wicked rule the weak 
Like all conquerors have their keep 
Liars... your hollow words play a hollow tune


Zdroj: http://zpevnik.wz.cz