Droom Blood Culture
Living in the shadow
Of a shattered world
With the fragments
Of our wasted lives
We keep ourselves entertained
With the bloodstained blades
Of bayonets and knives
We listen to the voices
In our heads
Absolution
For all our sins
All our sins
Blood culture
Our hearing deafened
To the sound of cries
We close our sad and tired eyes
As our children scream
With wounds that bleed like rivers
Like rivers running dry