2 MINUTES TO
MIDNIGHT
Kill for gain
or shoot to maim
But we don't
need a reason
The Golden
Goose is on the loose
And never out
of season
Some blackened
pride still burns inside
This shell
of bloody treason
Here's my gun
for a barrel of fun
For the love
of living death.
The killer's
breed or the demon's seed,
The glamour,
the fortune, the pain,
Go to war again,
blood is freedom's stain,
But don't you
pray for my soul anymore.
2 minutes to
midnight
The hands that
threaten doom.
2 minutes to
midnight
To kill the
unborn in the womb.
The blind men
shout let the creatures out
We'll show
the unbelievers
The napalm
screams of human flames
Of a prime
time Belsen feast...YEAH!
As the reasons
for the carnage cut their meat and lick the gravy,
We oil the
jaws of the war machine and feed it with our babies.
The killer's
breed or the demon's seed,
The glamour,
the fortune, the pain,
Go to war again,
blood is freedom's stain,
But don't you
pray for my soul anymore.
2 minutes to
midnight
The hands that
threaten doom.
2 minutes to
midnight
To kill the
unborn in the womb.
The body bags
and little rags of children torn in two
And the jellied
brains of those who remain to put the finger right on you.
As the madmen
play on words and make us all dance to their song,
To the tune
of starving millions to make a better kind of gun.
The killer's
breed or the demon's seed,
The glamour,
the fortune, the pain,
Go to war again,
blood is freedom's stain,
But don't you
pray for my soul anymore.
2 minutes to
midnight
The hands that
threaten doom.
2 minutes to
midnight
To kill the
unborn in the womb.
Midnight...all
night...
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