Tekst:
Alexisonfire Old Crows Young Cardinals

He comes, he comes Judge so severe Seven trumpets speak Oh, they speak him near He comes, he comes Judge so severe Seven trumpets speak Oh, they speak

America blearing in my ears all day America, I don't see the glory of your ways The oldest money flows through a bloodline We'll see if your empire stands

We greet each day with bloodshot eyes The dirt of our labor still clingin' to our hands Filled with our warped intentions The tread of our shoes filled

All blossoms die in the light of our new culture Find your belief in that which cannot be discovered Countless lessons lie in every fever dream A million

You get old, weak and strong We'll drag our hindsight through the twilight of this era To where our freedom reign and the old thought is laid to dust

Everybody on the count of 3 Accept crime 1, 2, 3 Bethlehem to Galilee Accept crime 1, 2, 3 Between the sheets the voyeur watches you And each caress

Pregnant teens on the Barton street bus Hard-up people living off crust And there?s a beat-up town car - it?s starting to ruse Hard soles are kicking

push the divide Forced to live a life In fear that his future is on the wane Midnight regulations Midnight regulations Burns his candle down Working to make ends meet Old

We greet each day with bloodshot eyes The dirt of our labor still clingin? to our hands Filled with our warped intentions The tread of our shoes filled