Wall of Selection - Sublime Birds | Текст песни

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• Wall of Selection
• Sublime Birds

Sublime birds

Closed eyes see the pain
Closed ears hear the howl
Closed and cold hearts rule our world

Where are these invisible gods?
Are they really inside us?
How much should I ask an absolute freedom?
I’ve got an answer: succeed in death!

There is a flock of sublime birds.
No, you’re not gonna fly with them!
Cuz your heart is sick and infected
And it’s afraid to be free.

You’re creeping, you’re dying
On the dirty stinky soil!

The sky takes a crap on you
The birds take a crap on you
The ground fucks you

Catch a sublime bird
And make it your slave,
Fuck its brain
By asking stupid questions

Tear the wings off and stick them on you
With the glue untrue, with the sticky shit
And you'll be a wingless, simple thing
Who do you cheat? Your heart is sick!