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We Are Next
Cobra
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Callous, feasting like a pack of rats
On the bodies of those who keep falling
Cancerous beauty pounded into dust
Wallows in the mud, our fate
No coming home
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Cowards, waiting for the blade to fall
Will cross their fingers hoping, praying to be buried
Floral crosses rising
Crooked and soaked in our own blood
Like a newborn bastard man cold lifeless
No coming home
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There's plenty of time to watch us fall
Splendidly, magnificent, one by one
Mills of defeat slow they grind and here we stand
Waiting in line a miracle that backfired
The time is now
No coming home
The pillars that hold us, corrupted crack down
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There're crowded squares lacking guillotines
Empty baskets that should be filled
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We need the sound of the rolling heads
Clenching teeth as the blood spreads
And if it's true that the head still lives
Well, then we'll have a few seconds left
To look into the eyes and tell those beheaded
That we are next
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