Tiny Y Son Constant Wars
crumble as if there were no tomorrow
preparing the farewell
they are slaves to their graves
at the edge of the battlefield
bury all the sights
make all the monsters come down tonight
bury all the sights
make all the monsters come home tonight
I am fine
won’t scream out loud
the pillbox transmiting new orders
and the ones claim to follow
waiting for miracles
these constant wars
tipple my will
to bury the hatchet
