Sounds Of Blackness Crisis
Yeah, this town is going under
The temperature's through the floor
Your fingers are turning black
There's a crisis knocking at your door
(One nine seven seven, one nine seven seven)
You'd better try to make it home
The snow is getting too deep to drive
Your car might be your coffin
(One nine seven seven, one nine seven seven)
We're never going to see the summer
This season's coming long and hard
Yeah, this town is going under
This season's going to kill us all
Count the snow flakes, little children
Count them as they bury you alive
Count them as they choke the road ways
A blizzard's coming in the year punk died
(One nine seven seven)
This season's left us all helpless
I can't see and even God is blind
And deaf to all your prayers
(One nine seven seven, one nine seven seven)
There's nothing that you can do
This weather's stronger than us all
The sky is going to crush you
(One nine seven seven, one nine seven seven)
This season's growing cold
I fear that this could be the end
And there's no sign of hope
We've got a crisis on our hands
The junkie is trapped indoors
Pretty soon he's going to need a fix
But the weather's not going to let him
And he's starting to get the itch
This season's holding us all hostage
Better do whatever it demands
Carter knows that we've got a crisis
Weighing on our frost bitten hands
(One)
There's nothing that you can do
The sky is going to crush you
(Nine)
There's nothing that you can do
The sky is going to crush you
(Seven)
There's nothing that you can do
The sky is going to crush you
(Seven)
There's nothing that you can do
The sky is going to crush you
This season's growing cold
I fear that this could be the end
And there's no sign of hope
We've got a crisis on our hands
