On The Beach Testo
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Testo On The Beach
Millions of megatons, the power of a thousand suns
Fowl our sky for years to come, a pyroclastic grave.
We beached the boat when it ran dry,
We pleaded with each other why,
And in our hearts we wished we'd die before we climbed aboard
Well I know it is a weakness, it's a lifetime of indifference,
Payed the tax and stole the rent, how did it rock the boat?
Ignore the pilgrims' suicide, the human bombs, rising tide
Saxons failed and tried and fired, they finally came to me...
Whispered tales of creed and flag,
Nowhere to ship home the bodybags,
Go pay the ferryman, and leave the tags rusting on the shore
I'm on the run my MP3 downloads global catastrophe,
Like the strangest darkest fantasies, the warheads fill the sky
Now a refugee on a Russian sub, a deal with a [little adolescent thug]?
Right they were to call us mugs as they waved us out to sea
After thirty days of poison flood,
The engines crack the deisel mud,
People tired of sweat and blood, we ran the boat aground
And fighting with each other, why?
Regretting why we'd never tried,
And in our hearts already died before we hit the beach
Whispered tales of creed and flag,
There's nowhere to ship home the bodybags,
Go pay the ferryman, and leave the tags rusting on the shore.
Fowl our sky for years to come, a pyroclastic grave.
We beached the boat when it ran dry,
We pleaded with each other why,
And in our hearts we wished we'd die before we climbed aboard
Well I know it is a weakness, it's a lifetime of indifference,
Payed the tax and stole the rent, how did it rock the boat?
Ignore the pilgrims' suicide, the human bombs, rising tide
Saxons failed and tried and fired, they finally came to me...
Whispered tales of creed and flag,
Nowhere to ship home the bodybags,
Go pay the ferryman, and leave the tags rusting on the shore
I'm on the run my MP3 downloads global catastrophe,
Like the strangest darkest fantasies, the warheads fill the sky
Now a refugee on a Russian sub, a deal with a [little adolescent thug]?
Right they were to call us mugs as they waved us out to sea
After thirty days of poison flood,
The engines crack the deisel mud,
People tired of sweat and blood, we ran the boat aground
And fighting with each other, why?
Regretting why we'd never tried,
And in our hearts already died before we hit the beach
Whispered tales of creed and flag,
There's nowhere to ship home the bodybags,
Go pay the ferryman, and leave the tags rusting on the shore.
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