Mustard Gas Songtext

von The Dear Hunter

Here they are; the wicked.
A panic floods the fields.
Deliverance; unthinkable.

They play their part, performing oh so well.

With empty cores they carry on.
"A twisted soul".
"An apparition".
Born of a beastly brand,
They butcher purposely.

Just have the sense to run away.

Scream to the sky and beg.
Beg for a reason he would allow this.
Look to the sky and say,
"We would be better off without this."

We've never felt alive,
But none of us can die
Just when we want to.

We're stuck in this disguise.
This leather skin; these eyes
Designed to haunt you.

But do we haunt you?

From the other side.