At our feet lay fallen giants in a coffin rests the state
In our fists were clutching tightly key to open fire's gate
So shoot the dice (a sheep in wolves clothing) and flip the coin tie The noose (a sheep in wolves clothing) and back your words
Or hide under the blankets (a sheep in wolves clothing) when the wolves come out to play
When it's anybody's game will you just cower on the shelf
Or sharpen the blade of your sword
The rounds set in the chamber and the tyrants blood runs cold
To fire the bullet first you must pick up the gun
Does the black bandana cloak the bomber or the coward?
Does your screaming wreak of protest or dissolve into the crowd?
Are we building up a movement or decaying with the state?
When the guns have fallen in our hands we'll have no time to wait
When it's anybody's game will you just cower on the shelf
Or sharpen the blade of your sword
The rounds set in the chamber and the tyrants blood runs cold
To fire the bullet first you must pick up the gun
Muerte policia OR more dead policia
