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• Artiste: Funeral For A Friend
• Titre: Vultures
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There's a point to make That sometimes goes unheard Like the blood in your veins You often forget What we are is a species on the brink Who'll be left to pick our bones clean And the vultures swarm high above Ready to feed of the last of us Sacrificial lambs Lead to the slaughter We eat the shit They feed us everyday When there's one great idea amongst the rest They try their best to put it back in its place And the vultures swarm high above Ready to feed of the last of us So carve me up and hold me down I'm not done speaking my mind They said it wouldn't hurt one bit when they brought us to the brink They said it wouldn't hurt one bit Extinction, it's on our minds