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Doomsday clock, but the numbers are all bunched up in one corner. (hexbear.net)

submitted 8 months ago by beef_curds@hexbear.net to c/chapotraphouse@hexbear.net

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[-] ElChapoDeChapo@hexbear.net 12 points 8 months ago

Kill for gain or shoot to maim But we don't need a reason The golden goose is on the loose And never out of season Blackened pride still burns inside This shell of bloody treason Here's my gun for a barrel of fun For the love of living death

The killer's breed or the demon's seed The glamour, the fortune, the pain Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain Don't you pray for my soul anymore

2 minutes to midnight The hands that threaten doom

2 minutes to midnight To kill the unborn in the womb

The blind men shout, "Let the creatures out! We'll show the unbelievers" Napalm screams of human flames For a prime-time Belsen feast, yeah As the reasons for the carnage cut Their meat and lick the gravy We oil the jaws of the war machine And feed it with our babies

The killer's breed or the demon's seed The glamour, the fortune, the pain Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain Don't you pray for my soul anymore

2 minutes to midnight The hands that threaten doom 2 minutes to midnight To kill the unborn in the womb

The body bags and little rags Of children torn in two And the jellied brains of those who remain To put the finger right on you As the mad men play on words And make us all dance to their song To the tune of starving millions To make a better kind of gun

The killer's breed or the demon's seed The glamour, the fortune, the pain Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain Don't you pray for my soul anymore

2 minutes to midnight The hands that threaten doom 2 minutes to midnight To kill the unborn in the womb

Midnight Midnight Midnight It's all night

Midnight, all night