Seeing the things I've seen.
Seeing reality at its darkest,
And realizing this world is not so serene.
The sight of Peace seems to be the farthest.
The sheep go marching one by one.
Murder, murder.
The sheep go marching two by two.
Massacre, massacre.
The sheep shall soon admit their defeat.
They've created a rival that no one can beat.
We speak for ourselves,
And not for the Shed.
We are not tools you may place on your shelves.
You will never defeat us, even if we are dead.
We are the revolution.
We hold the solution.
Just keep marching,
Right into your institutions.
Where there shall be such fine torturings,
And we shall hall you by your necks from our own blood stained rings.
Don't think for a second
That our silence means you have won.
Our minds are our greatest weapon,
And you soon shall see that this war has just begun...
 Alucarda Incarnate · Sat Mar 01, 2008 @ 06:42am · 0 Comments |
