Heads Will Hang

Dm
Death's breath on the back of our 
neck. The bitter taste of blood, 
flowing in floods
Dm
Consuming all the rations, neglect 
is a crime of passion
Dm
I don't believe we've earned our 
keep or deserve this peace, self 
centered catastrophes
Dm
Armies of fools will fall. Nights of
 no end. Writing on the wall

Dm             Gm               
War is now the will of your God.
Am             Gm
 The prophets hands are stained
Dm                            Gm 
War is now the will of your God. 
Am  Gm
    Heads Will Hang

Continues after the ad
Dm
All hail the antiheroes. Life 
reduced to ones and zeros. Expand 
and expire. Voices of reason retire
Dm
The threat is real, when you can 
feel the pain they feel. The 
writing’s on the wall

Dm             Gm               
War is now the will of your God.
Am             Gm
 The prophets hands are stained
Dm                            Gm 
War is now the will of your God. 
Am  Gm
    Heads Will Hang

Dm               Gm           Am
Soul Seller. Fortune Teller. 
            Gm
Plague Bearer
Dm               Gm           Am
The fog won't lift. These 
            Gm    Dm               
comforts are counterfeit. The kings
Gm              Am            Gm
 of shame stretch the divide
Dm               Gm           Am
The pieces never fit. First 
            Gm       Dm     
world counterfeits. The great 
          Gm           Am         
collapse now justified
   Gm


Dm               Gm          
Peace is merely a gift for the 
 Am            Gm
privileged, safeguarded from the 
pain
            Dm               Gm   
This indifference is paid in 
        Am            Gm
blood. All hands are stained
     Dm               Gm           
The grip of oppression tightens the
Am            Gm
 noose, but when they kick out the 
chair, heads will hang

Dm             Gm               
War is now the will of your God.
Am             Gm