The good times
May have all gone
The ugly truth comes
The black witches magic
The drama of fools
Walking like Zombies
Fighting without knowing
The brains are dead
The good times
May have all gone
Leaving us with our footprints
Collecting dust in our minds
Now we will see
The clashes of preaching
Trying to sell which is the best
Only the crying of angels
We will bury our fear
Deep down in the sand
Thinking we don't have to answer
When the time will come for us
The good times
May have all gone
With clashes in our eyes
The world will cry in red tears
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