Текст песни The Creditors - Spit Syndicate
Verse
1
I
believe
that,
Everything
that
we
do
in
this
world
comes
back,
Every
act
full
circle
like
running
on
a
track,
And
I'm
not
saying
I'm
always
comfortable
with
that,
See
I
got
demons
of
my
own
that
I
hope
don't
ever
catch
me
up,
Such
were
thoughts
that
I
shuffled
this
night,
The
shift
work
hustle,
waiting
for
my
bus
to
arrive,
But
I
dropped
what
I
was
holding
in
an
instant,
I
caught
a
glimpse
of,
a
crowd
of
people
that
had
gathered
in
the
distance,
Walking
towards
me,
down
the
middle
of
the
street,
Feet
moving
in
time,
like
they
were
written
to
a
beat,
They
got
closer,
I
noticed
their
faces,
Didn't
recognise
any
of
'em
but
I
watched
on
in
amazement,
They
looked
like
the
townspeople
of
Salem,
The
last
line
of
defence
in
Berlin
before
the
city
was
taken,
Man,
woman
and
child,
of
all
ages,
They
were
bound
by
something
as
they
took
to
the
pavement,
I
looked
for
a
flag,
were
they
marching
for
a
cause,
Or
carrying
a
cross,
like
an
army
of
the
lord's,
But
they
weren't
heading
for
the
courts,
or
for
parliament
lawn,
They
had
vengeance
in
their
eyes,
unmasked
and
forlorn,
They
walked
right
past
me,
as
if
I
wasn't
even
there,
A
young
girl
caught
me
staring,
and
turned,
She
looked
me
in
my
eyes,
said
no
need
to
be
scared,
You
see
they
took
what
was
ours,
and
now
we
coming
for
theirs,
we
are
the
creditors
Chorus
We
are
the
creditors,
they
call
us
the
creditors,
And
we've
come
to
collect,
from
all
that
indebted
us,
We
are
the
creditors,
they
call
us
the
creditors,
Every
name,
every
face,
every
word
that
was
said
to
us,
Any
innocence
ever
taken,
we're
taking
back,
The
world,
the
whole
world
will
fade
to
black.
Hear
the
cries
of
the
forsaken,
Let
it
wake
'em,
In
the
dead
of
the
night,
you
could
hear
the
ground
shaking
like.
You
could
hear
the
ground
shaking
like...
You
could
hear
the
ground
shaking
like...
Verse
Two
I've
been
told
that
revenge
is
one
best
served
cold
But
this
night
was
sweltering,
No
shelter
in
a
city
of
the
sin,
The
sort
of
heat
that
can
make
your
clothes
stick
to
your
skin,
But
it
made
no
difference
to
them.
They
marched
on
In
row
upon
row
that
stretched
like
forever,
Not
birds
of
a
feather
but
they
walked
together,
Some
in
rags,
some
robes,
some
everyday
clothes,
From
every
page
out
of
the
books,
they
rose,
The
left
behind,
the
long
forgotten,
Some
had
watched
from
their
villages
as
the
bombs
were
dropping,
Some
had
their
churches
torched,
their
land
was
taken,
Knives
in
the
back
while
hands
were
shaking,
Or
maybe
caught
in
the
cross
fire,
strays
from
the
weapons,
Or
taught
by
the
taunts
to
hate
their
reflection,
The
evilest
of
acts,
too
depraved
to
mention,
I
studied
each
face
in
succession.
Maybe
sold
out
by
a
government,
ignored
by
the
reverend,
Betrayed
by
the
people
that
were
meant
to
protect
'em,
History
books
had
done
their
best
to
forget
them,
But
tonight
they'd
rewrite
from
the
strange
procession.
And
it
was
too
late
for
redemption,
All
manner
of
debts
they'd
came
to
collect
'em,
No
tears
left,
just
empty
stares,
You
see
they
took
what
was
ours
and
now
we're
coming
for
theirs
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