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• Artiste: Muted
• Titre: Nine Out Of Ten
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
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All hear the man who speaks, he knows much more than you A guilty conscience that he'll feel his whole life through And though the years have passed, his goal is still the same To create conflict & to fan the devils flames And after all the minions haven't learned to fight He sends them out to be killed under foreign skies So do thy bidding & the future's all planned out You'll be a statistic in Satan's bodycount Oil, Land Changes hands Nine times of Ten we're in the wrong We are the chorus to deaths song Where there's no work there is a feeling of despair An ideal hunting ground for those who just don't care Recruit the young to do the killing for the old Cut out your tongue & never speak of what was sold Inside the hurt, inside the pain, inside the guilt Inside the brain there is a part that wanes & wilts The power of the gun is always on your side There is nowhere to run, nowhere that you can hide