Now you've got something to die for,
Now you've got something to die for.
Lust for blood, a blind crusade,
Apocalyptic, we count the days.
Bombs to set the people free, blood to feed the dollar tree,
Privileged, a chosen few
Blessed with our time in hell
Witness a divine vision, the day we all fell still.
Rapture of the dying age, a shattered hourglass
Wrath of the warring gods and soon this too shall pass.
If there was a single day I could live,
A single breath I could take,
I'd trade all the others away.
The bloods on the wall,
So you might as well just admit it.
And bleach out the stains,
So goddamn easy to write this,
you make it spill on the page.
So drunk on your self, self-righteous.
The laughing stock of your own fucking stage.
But I ain't one to call names
or throw stones in a house