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Typical crescent moon hangs low with a touch of fog,
While you hammer away at nails in the burning logs.
You can burn that bridge before its built, but you will never cross it.
The other side just laughs at you because you have fucking lost it.
Cannot turn back time, cannot pantomime the rhyme or the reason
You hung your dick down that well and found yourself in a hellof whores and heathens.
If you were looking for gold, so sorry- it's all been sold.
Memories rehashed, you look at me aghast when I say,
Aaah. Ooooh whoah oh
Hangmen sway the breeze; all their sorrows put at ease, souls as dead as their eyes.
What made them go so wrong in this land for so long- a war was unrecognized.
They sway in time
With the breeze.
Marching soldiers under trees.
Hup 2 3 4, one by one
Till this war is finally
One world, one.
Fear is drawn.
Till this order's marching along.
Hup 2 3 4
Till human filth is long gone.
released November 18, 2012
Amber Watson - Guitar, Vocal
Jake Bjork - Drums