Vārdi:
Soil Pride

be the damnedest day Oh, if you take these things from me Did you feed us tales of deceit? Conceal the tongues who need to speak Subtle lies and a soiled

in Communication, wondering Lost in the connection Communication sublime Lost in the connection Communication sublime Blood flows in the pulse Like liquid hate, we fall As deep in the network soil

The sweat upon his brow and the dirt worked into his hands The dignity of labor upon a man's own land The soil of his fathers passed on down through blood

Is hiding a sun in agony Filthy, soiled from head to feet His sword was rusty and ruined But in his eyes I caught A fleeting glimpse of his pride He

Some people look for a reason Maybe she just likes the feel of the soil Or keeping in tune with the seasons Maybe she has so much pride in herself Got

gained at the expense of the Third World From whom natural resources, both mineral and human, Have been unscrupulously exploited. Peoples' pride and

Face down in the gutter, won't admit defeat Though his clothes are soiled and black He's a big, strong man with a child's mind Don't you take his booze

This soil is dripping with the blood of angels I can almost touch their hands through the ground My eyes are filled with pride For this land of the dead

I see. The whole town eggs obnoxiously, forcing you out on a killing spree. It's not enough to spill the blood of those on the soil. In microwaves go