Man of men of dust to dust.
Left to wait and left to rust.
Wasting away in the burning sun.
The barrel still burning on the gun.
Let the blood come rushing out.
Let the blood come rushing in.
Running forever from the blaring horn.
A fuse of flesh and skin.
The soil of souls compact the earth.
Feed the children and give them birth.
Crook necked and mangled for a cause.
Still waiting for the call.
The man in the bomb.
His mind alive with a broken song.
No one can see the mines on fire.
We’ll die with it.
We’ll die with it.
No one can see the crying liar.
Blinded by fear.
No one can hear the words of god.
Minds of cogs and gears.
We'll die with it.
We’ll die with it.
We’ll die with it.
We’ll die with it.
Neurons fire within my head.
Wrenched back to pulsing life.
In a fierce burning holy dance.
Their last before they die, their final chance.
We’ll die with it.
We’ll die with it.
We’ll die with it.
supported by 7 fans who also own “The Man In The Bomb”
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