Defaeco 歌词
| 歌曲 | Defaeco |
| 歌手 | Ulcerate |
| 专辑 | Of Fracture and Failure |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Read, Ulcerate | |
| Blackness, inside to out | |
| Like a benign tumor turned terminal | |
| Here we are at the dawn our conclusion | |
| Penned, paid for and played out by us all | |
| Seconds slow as we count down to death | |
| Reflection eclipsed by blame to place | |
| Fingers point in every direction | |
| While resting on hair triggers | |
| The gun is our callous indifference | |
| The bullet is what we have become | |
| We have fellated fate for far too long | |
| Taste our infliction, and know that we were wrong | |
| There is a beauty within this violent paradigm | |
| And that lies with the inevitability of our end | |
| Staring into the abyss of man | |
| Empty, consumed, ruled by its dead hand | |
| May the horror of human nature | |
| Feed the horror of realization | |
| Caskets for empires founded on fault lines | |
| Caskets for empires |
| zuo qu : Read, Ulcerate | |
| Blackness, inside to out | |
| Like a benign tumor turned terminal | |
| Here we are at the dawn our conclusion | |
| Penned, paid for and played out by us all | |
| Seconds slow as we count down to death | |
| Reflection eclipsed by blame to place | |
| Fingers point in every direction | |
| While resting on hair triggers | |
| The gun is our callous indifference | |
| The bullet is what we have become | |
| We have fellated fate for far too long | |
| Taste our infliction, and know that we were wrong | |
| There is a beauty within this violent paradigm | |
| And that lies with the inevitability of our end | |
| Staring into the abyss of man | |
| Empty, consumed, ruled by its dead hand | |
| May the horror of human nature | |
| Feed the horror of realization | |
| Caskets for empires founded on fault lines | |
| Caskets for empires |
| zuò qǔ : Read, Ulcerate | |
| Blackness, inside to out | |
| Like a benign tumor turned terminal | |
| Here we are at the dawn our conclusion | |
| Penned, paid for and played out by us all | |
| Seconds slow as we count down to death | |
| Reflection eclipsed by blame to place | |
| Fingers point in every direction | |
| While resting on hair triggers | |
| The gun is our callous indifference | |
| The bullet is what we have become | |
| We have fellated fate for far too long | |
| Taste our infliction, and know that we were wrong | |
| There is a beauty within this violent paradigm | |
| And that lies with the inevitability of our end | |
| Staring into the abyss of man | |
| Empty, consumed, ruled by its dead hand | |
| May the horror of human nature | |
| Feed the horror of realization | |
| Caskets for empires founded on fault lines | |
| Caskets for empires |
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