[00:39.00]It doesn't matter if we all die
[00:47.00]Ambition in the back of a black car
[00:54.90]In a high building there is so much to do
[01:02.60]Going home time, a story on the radio
[01:10.40]Something small falls out of your mouth and we laugh
[01:18.20][01:22.00]A prayer for something better
[01:24.50]Please love me
[01:26.50]Meet my mother, but the fear takes hold
[01:34.10]Creeping up the stairs in the dark
[01:40.90][01:48.70][01:55.50]Waiting for the death blow
[02:12.80]Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
[02:20.70]Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
[02:28.60]Have wе got everything?
[02:31.60]She strugglеs to get away
[02:36.20]The pain and the creeping feeling, a little black haired girl
[02:44.10]Waiting for Saturday, the death of her father pushing her
[02:52.10]Pushing her white face into the mirror
[02:59.70]Aching inside me and turn me 'round
[03:07.00][03:10.80][03:14.70][03:29.30]Just like the old days
[03:46.80]Caressing an old man and painting a lifeless face
[03:54.90]Just a piece of meat in a clean room
[04:02.50]The idiots close in under a yellow moon
[04:10.80]All shadows and deliverance under a black flag
[04:17.80]A hundred years of blood, crimson
[04:25.50]The ribbon tightens round my throat
[04:29.40]I open my mouth and my head bursts open
[04:33.40]A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
[04:37.30]Thrashing in the water
[04:41.30]Over and over and over and over, we die
[04:48.00][04:51.80][04:55.70][04:59.80]One after the other
[05:03.40]It feels like a hundred years
[05:08.50][05:12.40][05:16.20]A hundred years

It doesn't matter if we all die
Ambition in the back of a black car
In a high building there is so much to do
Going home time, a story on the radio
Something small falls out of your mouth and we laugh
A prayer for something better
Please love me
Meet my mother, but the fear takes hold
Creeping up the stairs in the dark
Waiting for the death blow
Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot
Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs
Have wе got everything?
She strugglеs to get away
The pain and the creeping feeling, a little black haired girl
Waiting for Saturday, the death of her father pushing her
Pushing her white face into the mirror
Aching inside me and turn me 'round
Just like the old days
Caressing an old man and painting a lifeless face
Just a piece of meat in a clean room
The idiots close in under a yellow moon
All shadows and deliverance under a black flag
A hundred years of blood, crimson
The ribbon tightens round my throat
I open my mouth and my head bursts open
A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water
Thrashing in the water
Over and over and over and over, we die
One after the other
It feels like a hundred years
A hundred years