Texty: Boy Sets Fire. Nostalgic For Guillotines.

Breathe, breathe in the burning air
Then sigh, be relieved there's nothing there
We were free long before your free advice
Now the flags, they will burn in paradise

Rest your head here, feed our nation for us, please
And retreat to the back of our lines for your needs

As the blade is raised thoughts get clearer now
What if dreams that you had came crashing down
Would you change or erase the memory
Of the day, oh, the day you made us bleed?

Rest your head here, feed our nation for us, please
And retreat to the back of our lines for your needs
We sow the seeds upon your grave
So you know you'll feed us either way

If you're frightened of dying and, and you're holding on
You'll see devils tearing your life away
But if you've made your peace
Then the devils are really angels, freeing you from the earth

Wash away your sins and begin again
Resurrection from empty hands
Back against the wall watch your tower fall
To the ground with your head

Time to move on, your power is gone
It's your turn to run your hour has come
Let the blade fall

We'll feed our nation as we please
As you grieve our children will dance in the streets
Oh, we've sown the seeds upon your grave
So you know you'll feed us either way

And the meek shall inherit the earth