burns will last like time elapse as you wear your strings wired of collapse coiledso tight i swear your arms looks like wings loosen lines that will make
All these fairy tale forevers welcome everyone in and it's no wonder that she fell from this great blue sky. I can still taste my defeat on these lips
time How I wish that I could see your face When the sky is streaked with plumes Know that it's my signature Upon this wretched fucking city Mailbox arson My sweet revenge Mailbox arson
I guess it wasn't as bad as it sounds. We wore the embers like a crown, as a reminder to remember things don't heat up until the sun goes down.
'll just let go Lost in your eyes, transparent cries And we are, we are We are the Arsons Who start all of your fires And we are the Arsons Who start
I messed around and applied it Burned a house down and got a grade for it I don't need that fringe benefit I apply some, hot charity yeah It's got a
They came riding at first light Fifty men armed to the teeth The sounding horn called us out to fight We went to meet them in the fields Outnumbered
to be And this is how we all fall And we are, we are, we are the arsons who start all of your fires And we are the arsons who start all of your fires
The melting sky proves this nonexistance. Your fairy tale lies. But you're to blind to realize that your god's a lie. Your god is a myth, and I refuse
Here it is a beating heart inside the same blood covered box. Here is every word, every bleeding knife, from your decieving hands. Here is every word.
As you turn the page with your crimson finger tips, leaving traces of red. A message typed across my redened flesh that reads forget me not. Words carved
She wore a halo of fire with wings wrapped tightly around my throat. Her blood covered fingers traced my face. And its days like these that make me wish
On that day the angels fell. Broken wings and broken hearts. Leave me here to soak this earth with tears. Scream at the sky. Raise my hands to my face
time how i wish that i could see your face withered sky is streaked with plumes know that it's my signature upon this wretched fucking city mailbox arson, my sweet revenge mailbox arson
full of death motherfucka take a hit [chorus x2] any body due to go start a fire? I don't give a fuck till I hear me the choir Anybody due to go commit arson
. Ha, you know. Another night, another stage and a microphone; I've got bones made of iron and veins full of acetone. I turn everything I touch to gold; it's arson
Oversettelse: Alexisonfire. Postkasse Brannstiftelse.
Oversettelse: Amon Amarth. Brannstiftelse.
