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And They Hate It...

de Cursed

Coming on in full salute with conquest in their eyes.
With burning torches cast against the empty skies.
They cut our losses with sharpest knives, where villains thrive and heroes die.
Line 'em up and point the blame, us and them one and the same.
Line 'em up and point the blame, and you'll be gone when the lights come on.
Face down in the mud, your hands filthy with blood, your world still the same, taste the pain of nothing changed.
Here among the dead and dying, the troops are either mute or trying,
And it's all that stands between a medal and a crime.
Final frontier falls to decay. last of hope rotting away.
Disillusioned. the perfect citizen.
Still trying to add it up as the black rain falls, and we all fall with it.
God and country sold you out and fed you scapegoats for your doubts.
Last of the hope....add it up.

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