Swords To Plowshares 歌词

You are bound to us by oaths that you never swore To reject all of which could help you out Forever strained against the tides everywhere you go Tired arms swept away to God knows where This is a living irony This is a living irony A living irony You would be quite the blast if you weren't so sad And you could bring about the last days if you asked We will all see each other in this hell, you know So don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't be redundant (Don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't, don't be redundant) These horns will trumpet your last days All your caskets and trebuchets We'll be hopeless in the pure face Of music played by the true faith These horns are playing the last song You'll ever hear, so remember The words we're singing forever Rebuild, we dare you, we dare you