Текст (слова) песни: Motograter - Prophecies (Almost Over)

New plague, getting paid, everyone is guilty
Taxes on the lotto, waters gotten filthy
Psychos, weirdos, percocet and morphine
Little imperfections cost us all, cost us all
I saw a missile filled with frightened people
Crashing down, into a ball of flames

Something tells me this is almost over
Someone tell them its almost over

Slave camps, last dance, billion dollar mishaps
Bombshells, nitro, anything that you can throw
Housewives, onion rings, AOL and crashing planes
Second-rate therapy, everybodys crazy
I saw a black cloud above the forest
Wiping clean till nothing else remained

Something tells me its almost over
Someone tell them its almost over

Makes me sick to know that its your fault
Makes me sick to makes that its you
Makes sick to know that its your fault
Makes me sick and it makes me ill

Makes me sick to know that its your fault
Makes me sick to makes that its you
Makes sick to know that its your fault
Makes me sick and it makes me ill

Monstrous, what weve become, space waste, brain dumb
Nostradomus prophecies, warfare
Enemies! Enemies! Enemies!

Will someone tell them its almost over
Другие песни Motograter:

Collapse
Down
Fight
Get Back
Mutiny
New Design (Start Over)
No Name
Prophecies (Almost Over)
Red
Suffocate
Wrong