Giving Up The Slaying
When I hear the roar of thunder, and the castles flying by, I move on, for
I know why.
Death, Resurrection, don't matter to me, I'll be anything I want to be.
Slaying, Killing, all day long, the blood's making me hurl on top of a
Kong.
I'm getting sick, of looking at death, I'm getting sick, of the attention I
get.
For eventually, they're all gone, and no one's left to help clean up the
song.
I've picked up the blade, should I put it down? Then perhaps wonder around.
No one will no, for all who cares?
After all, I'm just a manslayer.
But is it true, what they say?
I shall seek more blood one day?
That perhaps, it will come back.
And death shall ring around my back?
As for now, I'm stopping here.
Leaving the slaying to another sincere.
But in it all,
And in the end.
It's all wrong, to happen all over again.
When I hear the roar of thunder, and the castles flying by, I move on, for
I know why.
Death, Resurrection, don't matter to me, I'll be anything I want to be.
Slaying, Killing, all day long, the blood's making me hurl on top of a
Kong.
I'm getting sick, of looking at death, I'm getting sick, of the attention I
get.
For eventually, they're all gone, and no one's left to help clean up the
song.
I've picked up the blade, should I put it down? Then perhaps wonder around.
No one will no, for all who cares?
After all, I'm just a manslayer.
But is it true, what they say?
I shall seek more blood one day?
That perhaps, it will come back.
And death shall ring around my back?
As for now, I'm stopping here.
Leaving the slaying to another sincere.
But in it all,
And in the end.
It's all wrong, to happen all over again.