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Poets Of The Fall
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Letra actual de la canción
It´s a bit like a trip, but you hit it with a slip of a tongue, like a whip, and we´re sinking, it ain´t<br>cool to be cool, though you may think it a laudable tool of self evaluation, of ego cultivation, n´ I´m<br>rolling my eyes like the stones for the lies, is it really all about the size or just a simple vice...<br><br>Oh, and it makes the news<br>Oh, cos it sings the blues<br><br>I feel the fire flare alight inside me<br>Higher so I can see<br>N´ aspire to survive this fight in spite of<br>Liars and travesty<br>Oh fire<br><br>Did you think that I´d blink, that I´d go and take the ink to your control, that I´d sell my soul, and<br>does it ring any bells that it sells that we´re living out of shells in a shotgun, if we couldn´t shoot,<br>we´d have to run, and finally the cerebral fantasy, better genes and machines, so we can die looking like<br>we´re teens, like snapshot scenes in smithereens...<br><br>Oh, and the ones we choose<br>Oh, witch hunting fools<br><br>I feel the fire...<br><br>Look there it is in the news again, yeah<br>There it goes singing the blues again<br><br>Fire flare alight inside me...<br><br>Fire, return my joy cos I´m so<br>Tired, tired of me<br>Inspire the weary eyed to see the<br>Ire and Irony<br>Oh fire
Letra nueva de la canción
It´s a bit like a trip, but you hit it with a slip of a tongue, like a whip, and we´re sinking, it ain´t<br>cool to be cool, though you may think it a laudable tool of self evaluation, of ego cultivation, n´ I´m<br>rolling my eyes like the stones for the lies, is it really all about the size or just a simple vice...<br><br>Oh, and it makes the news<br>Oh, cos it sings the blues<br><br>I feel the fire flare alight inside me<br>Higher so I can see<br>N´ aspire to survive this fight in spite of<br>Liars and travesty<br>Oh fire<br><br>Did you think that I´d blink, that I´d go and take the ink to your control, that I´d sell my soul, and<br>does it ring any bells that it sells that we´re living out of shells in a shotgun, if we couldn´t shoot,<br>we´d have to run, and finally the cerebral fantasy, better genes and machines, so we can die looking like<br>we´re teens, like snapshot scenes in smithereens...<br><br>Oh, and the ones we choose<br>Oh, witch hunting fools<br><br>I feel the fire...<br><br>Look there it is in the news again, yeah<br>There it goes singing the blues again<br><br>Fire flare alight inside me...<br><br>Fire, return my joy cos I´m so<br>Tired, tired of me<br>Inspire the weary eyed to see the<br>Ire and Irony<br>Oh fire
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