a sing - they died with the gun in their hands. Time will avenge one day. The sky is colored red by the martyr's blood, the same sky under which. The
Превод: Хеавен Схалл Бурн. Мученика крви.
sing - they died with the gun in their hands. Time will avenge one day. The sky is colored red by the martyr's blood, the same sky under which. The
Look at you lookin' back at me Who are you to judge what's going on inside of me? It's not your job to determine right from wrong Check your own heart
(feat Derek Golembeski, courtesy of xRepresentx) Step through the door, pay for a stamp Find your friends on the floor, now X up and dance Don't hesitate
Have mercy on me oh loving God Wash clean the stains of my transgressions Wash away, make me pure, cleanse my soul with your blood fill me with your
Every player has his downtime, every hero takes a break Even spidey lost his powers, even Magic hurt his leg But there's more than callin' it quits
Murder, rape and greed that's all i ever see religious pharisees Deceiving the weak And it breaks my heart This world was lost from the start Fueled
Unleash the dogs of war and we will count our casualties at the break of dawn
This is a matter of life or death and i wont let you slip away I love you too much for you To be another victim to the game I'd give my everything
The only mistake was not your pregnancy but rather how you ripped me apart Imagine all the possibilities But you turned your back on me Now i'll
My friend's have my back they're always there for me I'd like to take this opportunity to express just how much you mean to me In every thought and
(Featuring Josh Buck, courtesy of Taste the Steel) *We overcome* When it seems all hope is lost And we're out there all alone *we overcome* despite
wrapped three times around the limbs poles inserted between the boards gradually turned lines enter the skin slowly drawing the arms together while coughing up blood
They call me white Devil, black Jesus Heaven closes, Hell freezes Ego's trippin', scripts keep flippin' Bloods keep bloodin', Crips keep crippin' Time
tribal Oh, the sweet sound of survival Shall serenade this forest forever more The sun would have to be frozen For anything out there opposing Not to be left in its own blood
sword of Islam The rebels in China, the Sikhs and the Tams The house of our Father, the volumes of guilt The luck of the Irish, the blood that we've spilt The angels and martyrs