Songtext von The Butcher

Doomsday, the end of the century In accord with prophecy Are all your fears and fires and family Written within the Book of Butchery? My appetite is endless The people defenseless This land is big, this land is bigger But never as big as the mouth of a singer-oh. Every morning I listen to confessional Couldn't give a shit 'bout the bulk of it Still I keep it professional Then, as penance, I tell 'em to proselytize Say: the sun is red, say that I am red Say: all your bases belong to us And of doomsday, the end of the century In accord with prophecy Put all your fears, your fires, your family Into the mouth of Final Fantasy All the bishops will kneel at their alters and sing And remove their coils, their rings, their jewels And lay them all down in sacrifice What of things? What thing? What is this thing? I've a temper as shiny as any bling! And all this attention will gain you no favour in paradise The crack Where is the crack? When did I Crack? Then I'll stand alone on a planet with Nothing left to remember it I'll try, I'll try, I'll try to prevent it I'll try, I'll try, but I'll never stop it, no Muzzle me, muzzle muzzle me Bind my will and break of me You try, you try, you try to prevent it You'll try, you'll try, but you'll never stop it, no