Текст песни
I know why Judas wept, motherfucker!
The fires burn on the summit,
Shining a light on the ones I've killed
Survivor's guilt, undetermined –
I could murder the world in all the blood I've spilled
Banishment – sequestered and conquered
To hell with your intelligence –
Just figure out your common sense
NO ONE IS BULLETPROOF
I'll eat the skins of my brothers –
The alabaster bones will make a perfect wall
Can I fill in the cracks of these feelings?
With every terrible piece or maybe nothing at all?
Selfishness – take credit for everything
What more could you ask for?
And does it matter anymore?
NO ONE IS BULLETPROOF
Can you feel the cold? Fortune never favors the old
Tired of defending myself –
Go complain to somebody else... somebody else
The monsters in your madness are the voices in your head
They're scratching at your windows as you hide beneath the bed
You live like fucking heathens so you'll die like pagan gods
In between the poisons and the pure
Contagions and the cure
NINE FOR SURE
NINE FOR SURE
NINE FOR SURE
NINE FOR SURE
I got a bone that's dead inside of me
It's a rotting sick that I don't need
Feel free to vent your denigration
I can't believe I'm saying this
I'll live with my regrets. I'll die by my decisions
I'm not your fucking superstar -
Keep it close – you're going way too far
The fires burn on the summit,
Shining a light on the ones I've killed
Survivor's guilt, undetermined –
I could murder the world in all the blood I've spilled
Banishment – sequestered and conquered
To hell with your intelligence –
Just figure out your common sense
NO ONE IS BULLETPROOF
I'll eat the skins of my brothers –
The alabaster bones will make a perfect wall
Can I fill in the cracks of these feelings?
With every terrible piece or maybe nothing at all?
Selfishness – take credit for everything
What more could you ask for?
And does it matter anymore?
NO ONE IS BULLETPROOF
Can you feel the cold? Fortune never favors the old
Tired of defending myself –
Go complain to somebody else... somebody else
The monsters in your madness are the voices in your head
They're scratching at your windows as you hide beneath the bed
You live like fucking heathens so you'll die like pagan gods
In between the poisons and the pure
Contagions and the cure
NINE FOR SURE
NINE FOR SURE
NINE FOR SURE
NINE FOR SURE
I got a bone that's dead inside of me
It's a rotting sick that I don't need
Feel free to vent your denigration
I can't believe I'm saying this
I'll live with my regrets. I'll die by my decisions
I'm not your fucking superstar -
Keep it close – you're going way too far
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