Текст песни Last Days Of Rome

These words softly spoken into an empire's ear These days are on fire These days are on fire In the last days of Rome We live under a hanging cloud And we come up short but these roads take us anywhere past Words screamed from atop a precipice to a waiting populace These days are on fire These days are on fire In the last days of Rome (all I see is badlands) We live under a hanging cloud Past the badlands past the blight there is a spot of good fortune These days won't mean a thing past (Grab the plowshares. Turn them to swords) Past the badlands Past the blight Still breathing after the worst has left us These days never meant a thing And we come up short But we come up with something At least so far.