Abandon your straightened thoughts.
Forget the jewelers and their priceless songs.
Behind my back my elitist die has been cast down upon the unsuspecting masses.
Forgive them, lord, for they know what they do.
Free me… Feed me.
I don’t know these dances, I am an Old Romantic.
I sing the old songs, I bleed the old blood.
Would you want to waltz with me?
Until Hell freezes
My dead body will I let the Ravens reign down upon us,
Always blinding with their refuse and shame.
We’re sick, so sick of this town.
Raze it to the heavens,
Burn it to the fucking ground.
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