Birdstone - Hotline

One last call to carry us back from the depth
Hell I won't go ahead
No more lies, no miracle, lights on the pinnacle
No god to stop the fall

For the black shirts, white hoods and leather boots
They walk around all dressed in sharp suits
But we know the medicine, smoke, flares and gasoline
Anything to bring these fuckers down, low
Leave no ground for the beast to grow
Our darkest memories faded a long time ago
No point to hold on no light to show

Dawn, dawn it's been so long
Blindfolds to keep on a leash those who doubt
Before the drought
We'd find a way to hide
A wall to crawl behind?
Someone to hold the line

Hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine
Better call the hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine

Wait a minute, we radio silent
Mothership got no pilot
Get to the lifeboats, pack up the raincoats
Suit up or drown
Hold up

Better be your voice, better be over
Better be horns and barricades
Strike back we the renegades
So pick up the phone and just make the call
For, so many years we've been set aside
Now we claim
We fight
For what have been denied

Hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine
Better call the
Hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine
Hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine
You better call the
Hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine
You better call the
Hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine
You better call the
Hotline
Just fire up the
Moonshine

Written by:
Basile Chevalier-Coudrain, Benjamin Rousseau, Edwige Thirion

Publisher:
Lyrics © Royalty Network

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