Trap Them - Day Four: Collapse And Marathon

Saw the price tag you put on your eyes and ears
And watched as you sold your mouth for the lifestyle of a saint
You got on your caps and buried your mug in that hole
It's always the ones with the most cracked driftwood imaginations
That buy into the thickest of crucifixes
The biggest of brick walls
The brightest of whitewashes
We won't serve any boundaries
No borders of blood, no altars of worship
No buildings of damnation
No kingdoms built on rape and slaughter We'll never be sacred lives
Only traitors
Our war is the war you won't listen to
The war you won't speak of
The battle for the battle of the breath
When it fades, when it settles
When it burns and crumbles
We'll be your traitors
And we survive
We survive