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Lyrics » Letter : G » Artist : Gallows » Death Voices Lyrics

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Death Voices by Gallowsالقصائد الغناءيه -текстове на песни -texty -paroles -στίχοι -गीतletras -songteksten -тексты песен -versuri -tekst utworu -testi -the text of the song - - نص الاغنيةтекста на песента -tekst pjesme -text písně -teksten til sangen -teksti, laulu -le texte de la chanson -το κείμενο του τραγουδιού -पाठ के गीतEl texto de la canción -de tekst van het lied -der Text des Liedes -teksten til sangen -o texto da canção -Текст песни -textul de la piesa -Texten till låten -il testo della canzone

Death Voices by Gallows

     

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Drag your crosses through the ground
Pull the carcass to the hound
The ship we wrecked is going down.
The weather is a bitch and tonight she howls.
Remember me as you pass by
Cause you are now and once was I
Cause I am now, so you will be
Prepare for death, follow me.

Four nails,
Four corners,
Four riders and
Four horses.

Bring me famine, Bring me death, Bring me war and pestilence
Throw your fists, to the ground, beat by beat as the blows rain down
This is the cold plain world we made for ourselves.
The bed we made is a grave in hell.

Remember me as you pass by
So you are now so once was I
Cause I am now, so you will be
Prepare for death, follow me.
The sky tears open and it pours with blood,
The moon turns red and the streets will flood.
Dig up your casket, fill it with stones.
This is the end of the world and we are bringing it home.

Four nails, Four corners,
Four riders and Four horses.

Bring me famine, Bring me death, Bring me war and pestilence.
Throw your fists, to the ground, beat by beat as the blows rain down
This is the cold plain world we made for ourselves,
The bed we made is a grave in hell.

So kill yourself cause there ain't nothing else.
Go on and fucking kill yourself.

Four nails, Four corners, Four riders and Four horses.
Four tales, Death Voices. No love or corpses.
Throw your fists, down to the ground, beat by beat as the blows rain down
This is the cold plain world we made for ourselves,
The bed we made is a grave in hell.

So kill yourself cause there ain't nothing else.
Go on and fucking kill yourself.

Writer : CARTER, CHRISTOPHER FRANK / BARNARD, LAURENT BENJAMIN / BARRATT, LEE PHILLIP / CARTER, STEPHEN WILLIAM RICHARD / GILI-ROSS, STUART LESLIE
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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