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• Artiste: Disco Inferno
• Titre: Summer's Last Sound
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- and the gulls are coming in off the coast the smell of corpses pour from in mass graves uncovered must be abroad, it can't be here I can sense your violence, but I still don't understand the way the past looks dead when you've got the future in the palm of your hand run quick through noble streets where killers hide and freaks get bricks in windows and foreigners get hushed up trials and you're waiting for (...) which will tell you if you'll spend the next few years free from an attack of a petrol bomb the price of bread went up five pence today and an immigrant was kicked to death again and I'm scared for my life for the first time in it and we never learned that a home can put your life at risk so I guess we'll just disperse again and the gulls come in off the land the easy targets lure them in few scars are left don't be absurd, it can't be here until we find a place to settle, we just keep moving on we stay in flocks like birds, no one dares to move alone across a sea of burning skulls chased by death in all its forms over mountains, under suns we shoot to kill, we shoot for fun across a desert's burning skies we never stop to sleep or eat death always finds us in the end its burning shadow always weeping over hot hamlets and plains a killer wants to see us slain over fields of wheat and grain through the endless pouring rain why can we never find a safe place to land? when will we find ourselves in God's providing hand? They close in every day...