Sum 41 - 7. March Of The Dogs | Текст песни

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• Sum 41
• 7. March Of The Dogs

Ladies and gentlemen of the underclass
The president of the United States of America
Is Dead!

I don't believe in the politics
Of chosen fools and hypocrites
Who walk a line that's stretched so fine
Is death or glory had in mind?

And here we go
I'll guess the resolution
No one knows
Who'll lead this revolution now
Attention grows
The way to a conclusion

It's too late there's no time
(It's too late there's no time)
All for none, none for one, two, three, four

March of the dogs
To a beat of disillusion
Sworn under God
Breeding panic and confusion
The white flag is down
Send in the clowns
The carnival of sins is now 'bout to begin

It may be I'm a pessimist
But I'd say we need an exorcist
The root of all evil standing tall
Under God and above us all

And here we go
I'm getting desperation
All we know
Is confusion and frustration now
As tension grows
No vision of salvation

It's too late there's no time
(It's too late there's no time)
All for none, none for one, two, three, four

March of the dogs
To a beat of disillusion
Sworn under God
Breeding panic and confusion
The white flag is down
Send in the clowns
The carnival of sins is now 'bout to begin

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
A-one, two, three, four

And now the president's dead
Because they blew off his head
No more neck to be red
Guess to heaven he fled
Was it something he said
Because of who's in his bed
By whom will we be led?
By whose hand will we be fed?
All the lies by the lying liars who said
We'll be fine
It's OK
Hey look, Mom, no head

La la la la la la la
[random]
It's OK, alright