Sangtekst: Little Beirut. True Swords.

Well, the fires are out and the lessons learned
And the generals weep while the bodies burn
And she cries all night over what you said
Then it?s off to sleep and off with your head!
Cause the world?s on fire And it?s all your fault
And you couldn?t care less Or have you forgot?
The moonlight?s playing tricks on your mind
There?s no arms left to hold you
You and I are still sharpening knives
There?s nowhere left to run to
Oh, no...
You throw me down like a tarot card
Then you hold my face like a work of art
Do you build me up just to hunt me down?
Do you even know when I?m not around?
Or have we forgot?
The moonlight?s playing tricks on your mind
And no arms left to hold you
We?re alive and still sharpening knives
There?s no skin left to tattoo
Are you lining up their skulls?
Does it satisfy your soul?
Will the tears be worth the flood?
Can you satisfy your taste for blood?
Blood
Blood
Blood . . .
Oh, no . . .