Lunacy - Bury the Hatchet

No more excuses when we're getting colder
Decades have past as we are now older
Sons of falling daughters of moaning
Revival of examination of conscience

I make my enemies
Sleep with my enemies
My hideout is blown
Did we really change?

No more excuses as I come inside you
No more despair when we leave each other
We stand back to back, I cannot look at you
We howl like dogs, who is feeling colder?

No more excuses not to flood you with hatred
Bites, bruises, scars, our bodies once temples
Slap after slap you are less and less sacred
My hands on your neck rushing your burial

Who pulls down stronger
Whose thumbs press harder
I run out of patience

Pathetic bastards
At each other's throats
Did we really change?
Can anyone ever change?
I made my enemies
Slept with my enemies
Made peace with my enemies
All of them are drowned

Did we really change?
No one can ever change
This hatchet's not buried
This hatchet is sharp as was never before

Written by:
Aleksander Giziński

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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