Playing with matches, they burn the suburbFrom the ashes, will our phoenix rise?
Dancing with rifles, we’re kissing cannons all the time
Desensitized, is it violence they love so much?
Running with scissors, they might poke out our eyes
Believes they will get a brand new sight
Edgy, aren’t they?
Finger on the trigger
Lingering on Killer instinct
Letting the bullet be the singer
And hum a song of destruction
Violent violins
Molotov melodies
Soothing the beast in them
Shredding our flesh, sharp Do-Re-Ti
Artisans of their self-destruction
Architects of our self-delusion
Partisans of radical solutions
Painting landscapes of desolation
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