Creating Something Out of Nothing, Only to Destroy It
Norma Jean
Bless the Martyr and Kiss the Child
8
Rock
Tekst piosenki
Your eyes, your concrete eyes
Cross, crisscross my path
Walking in circular patterns
Shoe shine your ammo
Polish your metal
I need not your wicked weapons
My war is not with someone like you
String of blood
That is not my own
Strings between
A sword and my heart
So much so
That it makes its way through
My throat giving me thought to speak
This becomes my pistol
This becomes my dagger
This becomes your future
Unseen war
Your weapons are useless
Drop the gun
Golden gun
Like bringing a knife to a gun fight
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