Songtext von On March The Saints

Be something that amounts to nothing the threat A wrecking ball plowing through our karma We have no confident voice in our ears for tonight Exist in memory (the) only headline (chorus) We have been through change, by the season of the storms Its irony, the cleansing Except eccentric faith, to need religion To sit high among the elect On march the Saints There's no such thing as a good time for bad luck As minutes turn to distressed fragmented moments Reading lips unable to hear the talk Partake no tangible out in tomorrow (chorus) We have seen the change, from the season of the storms Its irony, the cleansing With all our lives at stake, from at rest to present Are sitting high, among the elect On march the Saints MARCH