He kept his craft confined to the night.
Subdued by sleep, we hate to wake up.
He catalogued and counted his kills, divided the dead,
And suddenly stopped.
Prompted by the heat of July,
The sweat on his skin beaded and fell.
He never prayed a day in his life…
‘Cause man, what’s the point when you’ve been promised to hell?
There’s something to be said for the crowd,
Which gathered and grew and erupted into song.
He smiled, as he toyed with the noose, and took up their words.
It won’t be long.
Oh, it won’t be long.
The tune collapsed, and the mob ceased their song.
Confused and in awe of the monster trained to sing.
The hangman tightened up and leaned in,
And offered the man a chance to speak before he’d swing.
He cried out:
“Man is not supposed to make mistakes. (wrong)
But for every man who cries and begs for time enough to breathe.
You’ll find a million more monsters like me.
Who’ll lick your world and laugh when we live.”
Then the trap door released.
Oh, it won’t be long.
Kader senmi kaldın bana gülecek aman gülecek Akan bu göz yaşlarımıda kurban silecek aman kimler…
Şarkı enstrümantal olduğu için şarkı sözü bulunmamaktadır.
Your worst enemy is your self Who do you believe in? Well I believe, I…
You angel you You got me under your wing. The way you walk and the…
Öyle küçük ki dünya iste görüyorsun Seninle yine karsilastik Hersey ilk günki gibi güzel olsa…