Cursed все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

"Who killed the time?
What's left that's mine"?
Face down in a nation of thieves,
What do you do when you're not on your knees
Drawing out nine to five disease?
(You kill the time, get back in line)
Last of the great team players.
Just payments away from freedom.

Friends In The Music Business
Hit Record cause it s all fucking pearls. A bridge-burner to end them all. Don t want to bite the hand that feeds I want to fucking break it off. When they say You ll never work in this town again , is that a promise or a threat? Businessmen dressed up like friends, they want to talk about business or friendship. The more confused the better the guilt trip. After all I did for you, don t you owe me this? Sign the paper, sign the paper, This Document Is Legally Blinding. We the undersigned do solemnly swear by The Plan. To break down on every highway from here to Creation. To play the game and sit still for pictures. How s your draw? Does it look good on paper? You d better be someone? Oh aren t you anyone? Gonna be somebody. We got friends in the music business. They re gonna take care of all the details. So is it business or pleasure? The more confused the better. Don t call me and I won t call you

This is the one Baptist.
I can feel it in the air.
The late night infomercial that's going to save your life.
The warden's call in the eleventh hour.
And it's easy to say but it's hard to remember
That praise is for suckers and death is forever.
Under your nose but just over your head.
Martyr meets maker in ten shades of red.

When the lights went out you were shoved to the ground.
Power station exploded.
They're all watching it go down.
This is a heatwave.
This is a heatwave.
This is a heatwave.
Someone's gonna get burned.
And all your trust boils down to this:

Here’s to the end of another day. Another dream you can’t relate. Another stiff that owns your time, with six more ways to split your mind into the dissociated states that pass for survival. Night Terrors, Sum of all the parts. Cold Sweat, Alone in the Dark. Night Terrors. Enemy of Sleep. Cold Sweat. Freedom to Weep. The death toll pornography they feed you all day comes back at night and it comes back in spades. Dead twin in the room staring back at you, with a message from all your tomorrows: “You Never Get Out”. Are you hopeless enough? Got problems, now you got problems. And we worked hard to lay them in your path. To keep you just hopeless enough. This sleepwalk on broken legs, modern man’s Dance of Death. Here comes the sun, the Trauma King says “Smile and keep moving, you won’t feel a thing”. Night Terrors, Sum of all the parts. Cold Sweat, Alone in the Dark. Night Terrors. Enemy of Sleep. Cold Sweat.

They've got words I never heard.
All seeing eyes staring me down through the centuries.
And with thirty three degrees of separation
In between the indoctrinated and the paranoid.
Someone turn the lights on.
Got an old and sinking feeling that the wolves are at my doorstep.
In the concrete.
In the context.

Whispered your name in a busy room and everyone stopped talking.
Brought you up in a confessional and all the grown men within earshot
Lost their faith and walked away, walked away and walked away.
Lost their faith and walked away.
So what is it you're not telling me?
Oh yeah, this time around, I'm not asking.

And oh, how small this town gets when you start asking for too many names.

Dear victim.
I'm a long time listener but a first time caller.
Dear victim I just wanted to say how sorry
I don't feel about your loss (and my place in it).
A better world?
What would you do in a better world?
But here I go again.
Making one more enemy.