Toy Gun Anthem Paroles

The glory of bullets, the fire, the mobs action to riot
Your keen sense of interest in the revolution will end
With the stains of innocence on your hands
The flags that divide us grow stronger
With your plastic refinement
Plaster your picture of heads
Lining your mantle
Define your heresy with streets
Lined with their entrails
Your murders reek of their guns
Your motives reek of their kind
When you've fooled the people
With your selfish intentions
You can bask in the warmth
Of your thugs in action
When it all comes down
You decide we're just looking for another leader
To bring us down
Your anthem will die with you
Like all those before you Of their masters