vendredi 9 janvier 2015

RIFLES. BAFFES. COUPS. ASSAUT. KALACHNIKOV. SKORPIONS. PEUR. CRIS. LARMES. PLEURS. SANG. ENCRE. PAS DE PAIN NI DE JEUX. QUE DU VACARME !










Rifles

I see the rifles coming over the hill
And if you shout maybe they stop and won't kill
But if you think like me
You'll be as dead as he

I see the lion crawling over your bed
And if you stay he'll make you walk in your bed
To what you're gonna be
It never lets you be

I see the colour in your eyes
I see the images I own
I see more colour in your eyes
Than the reflections from purple skies

I won't let you take him away
And I won't give to you the fires of hate
So I will never see
What you've done to me

I see the colour in your eyes
I see the images I own
I see more colour in your eyes
Than the reflections from purple skies

Now
You come alive
With the world at your side

Now
You come alive
With the world at your side

I see the rifles coming over the hill
And if you shout maybe they stop and won't kill
But if you think like me
You'll be as dead as he
Some day

I see the colour in your eyes
I see the images I own
I see more colour in your eyes
Than the reflections from purple skies

Now
You come alive
With the world at your side

Now
You come alive
With the world at your side




Young Men Dead

Fire for the hills pick up your feet and lets go
Head for the hills pick up steel on your way
And when you find a piece of them in your sight
Fire at will don't you waste no time

Another thought of the unaware
Addiction in disguise
With a drop of blood
You will take them out for me

Fire from the hills pick up speed and lets go
Fire for real yeah shoot to kill with no aim
Head for the hills yes eyes on the camp fire glow
Creep up there like a white mink hiding in snow

And out of the black a figure forms
A soldier in the sky
With a drop of love
Trying to set you free

Run for the hills pick up your feet and lets go
We did our jobs pick up speed now lets move
The trees cant grow without the sun in their eyes
And we can't live if we're too afraid to die

Hold on tight yes hold on tight you're too slow

Fire at the breeze that blows these thoughts through our mind
Hire only thieves to steal the thoughts from our heads



Aucun commentaire:

Enregistrer un commentaire