Let's take back what's ours. Stabbed in the back, True to the grave. Take my hand in yours. Bleeding hearts, we're not alone. Stabbed in the back. True to the grave. Such hollow shells. A ghost of what was real. Such hollow shells. A ghost of what was real. Let's take back what's ours. Stabbed in the back. True to the grave. Take my hand in yours. Bleeding hearts, we're not alone. Stabbed in the back. True to the grave. Such hollow shells. A ghost of what was real. Such hollow shells. A ghost of what was real. It just recycles itself, Terror breeds terror.
(x3) Meaning is lost for all who care.
(x2)
Writer(s): Trevor Frederick Grills, Michael William Hawkins, Traditional, Jonathan Robert Cleave, Rupert Christie, Jeremy David Brown, Rose Prince, Julian Nicholas Brown, Nigel Sherratt, Richard Peter Rowe, Louise Brown, Christopher John Lethbridge, John Anthony Brown, John Leonard Mcdonnell
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