paroles de chanson Circle of Death - Roomie , Dan Bull , The Living Tombstone
Hop,
hop
out
the
aeroplane
You
better
not
be
scared
of
pain
There's
a
hundred
other
motherheckers
out
there
want
you
dead
and
they're
insane
It's
tough
to
see
upon
descent
Which
one
of
us'll
be
the
one
per
cent
Dropping
like
frogs
or
fallen
angels
that
the
gods
have
sent
Hey
maybe
the
goal
Is
population
control
That
would
explain
why
the
voice
channel's
saturated
with
trolls
Because
this
game
and
frustration
go
together
like
bacon
and
rolls
We're
not
playing
a
role
That's
just
the
way
that
we
roll
Clubbing
your
face
in
with
a
spade
Heartlessly
making
you
fold
Players
who
play
their
deck
correct
can
get
to
be
the
ace
in
the
hole
Prey
never
see
me
patiently
wait
in
the
cold
Shaking
then
take
a
patrol
Out
like
the
pin
pulled
from
your
grenade
and
then
bolt
'Til
there's
smoke
on
the
horizon
I'm
going
for
the
diamonds
Hope
is
ever
rising
with
the
stakes
and
so
you're
frightened
But
mate,
it's
too
late
to
panic
And
it
won't
exactly
help
If
God
put
a
hundred
cards
in
the
pack
Which
one'll
be
the
last
he
dealt?
Falling
down
We
dropped
onto
the
ground
Into
the
massive
circumference
of
death
There's
only
one
who
makes
it
to
the
centre
Fighting
on
The
circle
closes
in
As
all
the
bodies,
they
build
up
within
There's
only
one
who
makes
it
to
the
centre
Scraps
of
ceiling
plaster
fell
Scattered
round
ramshackle
towns
A
massive
match
of
cat
and
mouse
In
that
you
have
to
catch
'em
out
A
man
with
shattered
health
Trying
to
find
a
faster
route
As
a
vast
amount
of
metal
shells
rattle
clatter
down
like
acid
stratus
clouds
Lashing
out
and
I'm
mad
as
hell
Should
be
thrashing
about
in
a
padded
cell
In
a
satin
gown,
that
aroused
Crap,
did
I
say
that
aloud?
Welp,
that's
my
natural
style
Settle
down,
blabbermouth
I'll
neuter
you
like
Latin
nouns
Testing
out
this
frag
I
found
Ask
Jack,
I
don't
act
the
clown
You'll
be
scattered
where
your
ashes
fell
Fucking
hell,
is
that
allowed?
What
the
heck's
all
that
about?
Don't
have
a
cow,
man
I'm
sure
you'll
soon
have
it
fathomed
out
Spotted
the
pattern
now?
Better
batten
down
the
hatches,
hell
No
matter
how,
there's
no
backing
out
this
battleground
So
you
might
as
well
sit
back
and
chill
Until
the
matter's
dealt
with,
happy
now?
Anyway,
it's
too
late
to
panic
And
it
won't
exactly
help
If
God
put
a
hundred
cards
in
the
pack
Which
one'll
be
the
last
he
dealt?
Falling
down
We
dropped
onto
the
ground
Into
the
massive
circumference
of
death
There's
only
one
who
makes
it
to
the
centre
(Bombs
over
battlegrounds)
Fighting
on
(Bombs
over
battlegrounds)
The
circle
closes
in
As
all
the
bodies,
they
build
up
within
(Dan
Bull)
There's
only
one
who
makes
it
to
the
centre
(Roomie,
The
Living
Tombstone)
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