paroles de chanson Front Toward Enemy - Incendiary

Dead men tell no tales
But their graves still carry weight
There's a war coming
Fought by those who spit on fate
Tired hungry masses
Sick of empty dinner plates
There's a war coming
Fought by those with a bitter taste
No more "fall in line"
No more "know your place"
Growing to see
A world that's ripe to take
Storm the bastille
Riot the draft
Easter Rebellion
Taken and never asked
When our eyes are blind
And our noses turned
The displaced rise up to take
What we never earned
Fearing revolution
Can you feel your death grip loosen?
Fearing revolution
Your TV's showing all the
Restlessness
Bitterness
Catalysts
Vehemence
Fearing revolution
They got their trigger fingers moving
Oppression's common theme
The silent finally scream
The threat of oncoming war
Fought by those who spit on fate