LETRA
Use A− / A+ para ajustar a leituraOne Hundred Years
It doesn't matter if we all dieAmbition in the back of a black carIn a high building there is so much to doGoing home time, a story on the radioSomething small falls out of your mouth and we laughA prayer for something better,a prayer for something betterPlease love me, meet my mother, but the fear takes holdCreeping up the stairs in the darkWaiting for the death blowWaiting for the death blowWaiting for the death blowStroking your hair as the patriots are shotFighting for freedom on the televisionSharing the world with slaughtered pigsHave we got everything? She struggles to get awayThe pain and the creeping feeling,a little black haired girlWaiting for Saturdaythe death of her father pushing herPushing her white face into the mirrorAching inside me and turn me roundJust like the old daysJust like the old daysJust like the old daysCaressing an old man and painting a lifeless faceJust a piece of new meat in a clean roomThe soldiers close in under a yellow moonAll shadows and deliverance under a black flagA hundred years of blood crimsonThe ribbon tightens round my throatI open my mouth and my head bursts openA sound like a tiger thrashing in the waterThrashing in the waterOver and over we die one after the otherOver and over we die one after the otherAfter the otherAfter the otherAfter the otherAfter the otherAfter the otherIt feels like a hundred yearsOne hundred yearsOne hundred yearsOne hundred yearsOne hundred years
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