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Fit for an Autopsy - Heads Will Hang

Death's breath on the back of our neck
The bitter taste of blood, flowing in floods
Consuming all the rations
Neglect is a crime of passion

I don't believe we've earned our keep
Or deserve this peace, self centered catastrophes
Armies of fools will fall
Nights of no end. Writing on the wall



All hail the antiheroes
Life reduced to ones and zeros
Expand and expire
Voices of reason retire
The threat is real
When you can feel the pain they feel
The writing’s on the wall


Soul Seller
Fortune Teller
Plague Bearer

The fog won't lift
These comforts are counterfeit
The kings of shame stretch the divide

The pieces never fit
First world counterfeits
The great collapse now justified

Peace is merely a gift for the privileged
Safeguarded from the pain
This indifference is paid in blood
All hands are stained
The grip of oppression tightens the noose
But when they kick out the chair

Heads will hang
Heads will hang

War is now the will of your God
War is now the will of your God

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