Someone wants me dead
From the neck and upwards
Rope weaved by these hands
Box of my toils
Coerced, dazed by a sucker punch
Reeling, believing that these are the dues
Someone wants me dead
From the neck and upwards
Pitch back, throwback to a chastised youth
No quarter, stifled under a stitch-up hood
To be made an example
Will staunch my deviant flow
Held a lever that only I can pull
Need a trauma to
Silence my loose tongue
Loose tongue
Bigots want my head
On a plate to sound out
Probing, exposing delicate core to full view
Damning, programming etiquette to suit
To dissect and reset
Will staunch my deviant flow
Held a lever that only I can pull
Need a trauma to silence my loose tongue
Group constrictor throttling a bond
Call a cull to silence our loose tongues
Silence our loose tongues
Silence our loose tongues
© HANSEATIC MUSIKVERLAG GMBH; PROPHECIES PUBLISHING MARKUS STAIGE;
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