The Wrath of the Lambs
Measured words and a faithless kiss fFrom men who rule with iron fists Compassion here is bought and sold but the publicity was sweet As the faithful gather round their screens To weep for one more nameless kid Who died to make the faceless rich Who died to make the faceless rich We're voiceless In talent shows for media whores and idiots fighting fashion wars A new religion for the poor where everything is bought and sold As the worthless gather on their knees In their sweatshops by the sea To make the things that set them free To make the things that set them free We're hopeless We are - We're hopeless We are - We're captive No more
Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 25, 2025
As you secretly plan your escape From you world without fences that you fought so hard to defend You watch the highway below The silent breadlines of civilised men As you cling to the edge of a dead monday Every town looks the same It's just the streets that have different names It's the infinite sadness of parallel lines It's the shade in your eyes We're not meant to be living this way You watch as they dance to the pulse of a clock With those ignorant faces that they lie so much to protect But these are all broken men Their eyes are extinguished, their dreams became lies And you cling to the edge of a dead monday Every street looks the same It's just the towns that have different names It's the infinite sadness of parallel lines It's the shade in your eyes We're not meant to be living this way Wait Meant to be living this way Wait We are meant to believe in this Living this way
Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 25, 2025
Caught in the glow of a television The world is passing by But you flick it over to a chatshow Because the world is killing you We're trapped in terraced prison cells With matching sofa sets No - this isn't me It's my suburban symmetry You hear them talk in wicked tangents And you fear what you become Your government is in control, please try to understand We don't tolerate intolerance We're trapped in terraced prison cells With matching sofa sets No - this isn't me It's my suburban symmetry
Submitted by The Void — Apr 25, 2025
Instrumental
Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 18, 2026
The blackened whisper of the rain Burns the memories black You don't see it now You don't realise But you're fading out It all comes back to you in the end But how did we end up this way? You don't see it now You don't realise But you're fading out I was planning by revenge But these poisoned words are meaningless But there is so much left to say That you disappoint me That I will not forget I will not forget That I will not forgive you That I understand
Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 25, 2025
Behind these cardboard trenches where you buy your conscience clean From fugitives and thieves But what's the difference in the end? The guilt is all the same These streets have wept a thousand times And it's painted crimson on cement But the revolution never came One last stand from the mild, mild West Behind these picket fences are the ghettos of the elite The corporate emperors and slaves who made the world such a beautiful place With their happy meals and hand grenades These streets have wept a thousand lies And it's painted crimson on cement But the revolution never came One last stand from the mild, mild West Your fear is control We await apocalypse while they nail your enemy to a golden arch Burn your flags in your shopping malls Because freedom is a franchise these days And I think we've lost the fight
Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025
Asylums for abandoned dreams And aborted revolutions The echoes of a dying mind It's only the faces that change And you walk again Along that thin white line A poem for the dead A refuge for the weak Staring through a photograph Do you ever wonder how you're still holding on? This is what you've become And you're no longer in control Pictures of white fences on the cover of a housewives' magazine There is so much left to lose Her portrait is still hanging on the wall From the bottom of an empty glass your own reflection points and laughs There is so much left to lose And you're no longer in control Staring through a photograph Do you ever wonder how you're still holding on? This is what you've become And you're no longer in control
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025
You must be proud The headlines claim you won the war And you wear that flag on your lapel But across your street A teenage girl is leaving school To look after the kids He leaves a young wife and a son behind As your mother trails behind the funeral parade We need our heroes now The population is losing faith Turn to page three I remember shots Of bodies in a long embrace Like they never knew in life Across your street A teenage girl is leaving school To look after the kids He leaves a young wife and a son behind As your mother trails behind the funeral parade We need our heroes now The population is losing faith Turn to page three
Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 25, 2025
A million middle fingers Poison the veins of an empire So deep in denial So feeble on a leash And pint-sized philosophers Are debating the size of the tits on the Sun Why? White lies are printed on body bags Next to the price of a barrel of oil Profit and warfare on instant replay We are voiceless The middle class resistance Swallow rhetorical theories over cocktails and golf Revolution is futile While fat men in pinstripe suits Are debating the size of the tits on the Sun Why? White lies are printed on body bags Next to the price of a barrel of oil Profit and warfare on instant replay We are voiceless
Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025