The Famine - A Fragile Peace lyrics

A grinding narrative set on a razor's edge, the culmination of a lifetime It stutters to a stop, then crumbles into ruins, bones held up by wire You don't put the gun in your mouth because you like the way that it tastes It's a testament to the will of man and the progress we have made A debt we all must pay, bit by bit by agonizing pieces of ourselves To warlords and profiteers all huddled in dark ma**es, xenophobes and k**ers Bone soaked in blurry tears, the matted grey of ashes, a liturgy on our failings Choke down a Eucharist of flesh and tinny blood to find a fragile, fleeting peace You don't put the gun in your mouth because you like the way that it tastes It's a testament to the will of man and the progress we have made In a sense we've done our best to lay it all to waste So cavalier and so secure, dressed in our Sunday finest A debt we all must pay, bit by bit by agonizing pieces of ourselves To warlords and profiteers all huddled in dark ma**es, xenophobes and k**ers Commercialized regret manufactured in the falsest pretense of sorrow "Those wretched fools," you'll think, "All huddled in dark ma**es, ripe for the taking." Sycophants and slaves Crawl back from whence you came, tormentors. Lie in the bed that you have made Suffer the fools in silence Let your actions speak for themselves, because actions speak for themselves A grinding narrative set on a razor's edge, the culmination of a lifetime