Comrads
All dressed-up in our old rags
Talking about the good times
As if we mean it.
Poison, heavy heads in motion,
Talking about the structure like we don't need it
And this calls for blood
And this calls for something I can't...
And here comes the flood,
And here comes the deluge again.
Say Hallelujah!
Godspeed! Stranded in the backseat,
Just hoping for your good deeds to make up for it.
Streetlights, mandatory fake fights,
Oh you might wanna feel right
But I don't
And this calls for love
And this comes for something I'm not
And this calls for god but my friends won't give it a shot.
Say Hallelujah!
It's a common place with common faces.
Oh now comrad won't you stay?
