We found our rhythm in the rage.
That burning light that needs no stage.
Though left with nothing you forget.
Through nothingness we smash.
To build upon what’s real.
Like setting sun the desperate glory fades.
Old lies so sweet can taste3 so true.
But strip away: a death obsession, a gimmick, a clever cloak.
And of your brave now broken world what will remain?
This war means more than metaphor.
This fight is all too real.
The front lines are right here...
War Is Hell
- Slings And Arrows
- The Cure
- Red, Black And Blue
- Set The Stage
- Ripped To Bone
- Tight Rope
- War Is Hell
- Scene Celebrity
- Lightning Strikes
- More Than Metaphor
- Vital Eyes
- Foreign Pain