a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

the art of dying - the collection lyrics

Loading...

death sits inside his office as we wait for the verdict
he speaks our fate with a nervous tick; do we get the cure or the sickness?
and when we die, what will it be – a graveyard grave, or a golden fleece?
and will we fight or will we flee?
will you still have faith in me?

i walk down the golden stairs and pray again the skeptics prayer
my grandpa is still sitting there asleep with a book in his red chair
i’m a father, and i’m a son, and i do not own any guns
i hope death don’t come from my hands so i can die a peaceful man

can’t we say that we won’t know a single thing until the day that death itself is cast away
and i believe there’s nothing left to mar
i don’t know where i stand, but when i fall, its not too far

i hope you’re running down the road with a golden ring and a purple coat
to meet me when i p-ss through death with my brother and the fattened calf

i can’t see what it will be until my real name comes to me
i can’t see what it will be, so dance with me until i sleep

- the collection lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular

Loading...