He comes, he comes Judge so severe Seven trumpets speak Oh, they speak him near He comes, he comes Judge so severe Seven trumpets speak Oh, they speak
Oh, young cardinals Nesting in the trees Oh, hear our song And reign your innocence on me Oh, young cardinals Oh, young cardinals Oh, young cardinals
America blearing in my ears all day America, I don't see the glory of your ways The oldest money flows through a bloodline We'll see if your empire stands
When will this winter end? The snow's been falling for months The town all dressed in white And my skin is burning from the wind A cold sun in disguise
We greet each day with bloodshot eyes The dirt of our labor still clingin' to our hands Filled with our warped intentions The tread of our shoes filled
Pregnant teens on the Barton street bus Hard-up people living off crust And there's a beat-up town car it's starting to ruse Hard soles are kicking up
All blossoms die in the light of our new culture Find your belief in that which cannot be discovered Countless lessons lie in every fever dream A million
Old crows ride in the mouth of the beast Sleep beneath its tongue, cradled by its teeth We roam from shore to shore From the open sky to the ocean floor
They are the nameless victims of a generation lost Searching for somewhere to exist Held captive by our mistakes, weak and unable to resist Resentful
I find myself concerned for the common man these days Evil are the minds that push the divide Forced to live a life in fear that his future is on the
Everybody on the count of 3 Accept crime 1, 2, 3 Bethlehem to Galilee Accept crime 1, 2, 3 Between the sheets the voyeur watches you And each caress
waits for the dawn to reveal itself again Oh young cardinals Nesting in the trees Oh hear our song And rain your innocence on me Young cardinals, take
译文: Alexisonfire. 杨红雀.
Pregnant teens on the Barton street bus Hard-up people living off crust And there?s a beat-up town car - it?s starting to ruse Hard soles are kicking
When will this winter end? The snow?s been falling for months The town all dressed in white And my skin is burning from the wind The cold sun in disguise
I find myself concerned For the common man, these days Evil are the minds That push the divide Forced to live a life In fear that his future is on the
They are the nameless victims of a generation lost Searching for somewhere to exist Held captive by our mistakes Weak and unable to resist Resentful
