Can you hear the trumpets call?
Coming on the clouds of our eternal winter?
Our heavens shed not tears of pain
But of acid rain as the ashen feathers fall as snow
Give my love to those who stay behind
In the form of a bullet
Give to us the promise
of an end
Coming on the clouds of our eternal winter?
Our heavens shed not tears of pain
But of acid rain as the ashen feathers fall as snow
Give my love to those who stay behind
In the form of a bullet
Give to us the promise
of an end