Germs

Land of treason

Germs
land of treason-waste no reason- we are breathing fire we're packs of dogs- we're enemies of men-we are not desired our face show- we've grown cold-but have not conspired old hearts gone- the future's on-mother nations mired i like a recepticle for the chosen dead, we find our bodies clawed and with the scent of death, we find that we are not so very awed loyalties burned- the words our blurred-overturn your own walk like dogs and watch the doors- have your other stone stop the toys that match disordered- calculate the thrones feel the pulse descending- decaying hallowed tomes in the starving sense you worship- the nations of debris you wear a cost of sewage- that you've never ever seen the time is now-the vicious here- a stolen dinner code the license of the savage land- that you've always sold so bite the hand that needs you and bless another coal the virus never issues- from a cotton so very old as the lights come down and the guilty blaze another sort of road you wash your hands and start to climb the ladder that you stole slip the hatch-and spin the sword- the money lords are poor push the tan-that rolls downhill- their sense of dream absorbed still the cat that breaks the night- tie him to the core chase the viruses that believe- that what's right is scored it's a senseless cash in of right for right- what's wrong is never gone and left is just a bassion for the fools golden dawn
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