So we played our games
in the dug-out graves
Shouting curses at the dirt
'til the Messiah showed his face,
With his soap-stone eyes
and his seaweed beard
and he scolded us so sharply
with his winding river tongue.
It was not my place
to be calling names
'Cause I was the oil-spitting acid-tripping dog
"I would like to see you at your worst"
What's your worst?
So you'll sleepwalk home
in a sick moon's glow
Just a lonely set of bones
beside a lonely service road
You will crack your skull
like a rotting hull
just to picture all the good you could've done yourself
by picking from the tree.
So I read the psalms
off your painted palms
and they drew a darker picture
than our father would've liked.
It is not your place
to be digging graves
Should have learned from my mistakes
and left it up to fate.
Tuez Le Tous Dieu Reconnaitra Les Siens Video (MV)
The Republic Of Wolves - Tuez Le Tous Dieu Reconnaitra Les Siens Lyrics
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So we played our games
in the dug-out graves
Shouting curses at the dirt
'til the Messiah showed his face,
With his soap-stone eyes
and his seaweed beard
and he scolded us so sharply
with his winding river tongue.
It was not my place
to be calling names
'Cause I was the oil-spitting acid-tripping dog
"I would like to see you at your worst"
What's your worst?
So you'll sleepwalk home
in a sick moon's glow
Just a lonely set of bones
beside a lonely service road
You will crack your skull
like a rotting hull
just to picture all the good you could've done yourself
by picking from the tree.
So I read the psalms
off your painted palms
and they drew a darker picture
than our father would've liked.
It is not your place
to be digging graves
Should have learned from my mistakes
and left it up to fate.
in the dug-out graves
Shouting curses at the dirt
'til the Messiah showed his face,
With his soap-stone eyes
and his seaweed beard
and he scolded us so sharply
with his winding river tongue.
It was not my place
to be calling names
'Cause I was the oil-spitting acid-tripping dog
"I would like to see you at your worst"
What's your worst?
So you'll sleepwalk home
in a sick moon's glow
Just a lonely set of bones
beside a lonely service road
You will crack your skull
like a rotting hull
just to picture all the good you could've done yourself
by picking from the tree.
So I read the psalms
off your painted palms
and they drew a darker picture
than our father would've liked.
It is not your place
to be digging graves
Should have learned from my mistakes
and left it up to fate.