Sons Of Bullets
Antrochaotic
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There’s no goodness against evil, nor God against devil
When God remains at the other side, a hole nation believe in these lies
I’m not proud of seeing
Sons of mine are dying
In the name of a foreigner flag
Shots up
Won’t bring them back
Die for a cause
Or die trying?
Isn’t the truth
Controlled minds
Runs to death
Lunatics of war
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Terror
Is what they sell to us
Criminals
Are the heroes of the crowd
Blindly, cowardly, silently, we agree
Sons of bullets
Imperialism
Is what they impose to us
Control
Under our very own lives
Blindly, cowardly, silently, we agree
Sons of bullets
The general display his medals behind a table with clean hands
Beholding the horizon ornamented with the young troops
Drowning on its own blood