We'll Never Be This Young Again
de Cursed
Welcome home in a bodybag from the front lines of defeat.
Discharged "to a normal life" in a room
That's two feet wide and six feet deep.
And the flag on your coffin, it might as well be the nails.
When all else fails, you are the wind
That sets their sails to a war
Played out before you were born.
Business as usual.
It's business as usual.
Your business as usual is killing us all.
So bring out your dead, chalk up the score and we'll go through the motions once more.
Buried on a Sunday in a military grave with a six gun salute from the master to the slave.
For the life that you gave, the promises that they broke, and the bribes that you paid.
Back in the land of the dead you're buried where you fall.
No glorious deeds etched into a wall.
The monument is the blood in the sand, blood in the oil.
Blood on your hands.
When hell comes home, there's hell to pay.
This is the price of oil.
Más canciones de Cursed
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Unknown
Unknown
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Postal
Postal
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Run Yo Mouth
Omega
-
Death Sentence
Omega 2
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Kevlar
Artificial Warfare 2.0
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Improvised Explosive Device
Postal
-
Burn
Postal
-
Cold Iron
Postal
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Run from Me
Postal
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Glorious
Postal
-
Temporomandibular Grind
Postal
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Dragged Away
Postal
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Hell Caged
Postal
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Claptodeath
Postal
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Blood Path
Postal
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Shotgun Callostomy
Postal
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Results
Postal
-
Intro
Postal
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Home
Postal
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The Truckstop
Postal