Paroles de Wicker

Like ravens on a scarecrow Too old to beat them off The guilt ferments Familiarity breeds contempt The yoke of faith splatters silent Harvest time, red moon rising Anvil cloud, lightning rod Peacemaker, life taker What's inside the silo? Can it fly? A needle in the haystack To crack the sky The yoke of faith breaks away From the beast of burden Harvest time, red moon rising Peacemaker, life taker Peacemaker Peacemaker Peacemaker Life taker The feet of marching men Beat down the fields of last chances As scarecrows in amber waves of grain Grin exchanging glances We've killed it We've killed it Killed it