Letras: Prong. Broken Peace.
tell you something clearly
tell you something real
but you tell me nothing
you never do nothing real
your kind it keeps on cutting
division you create now its all exploding soon
nothing left to break no hope in complaining
all this lay in ruin its a time for mending
gathering of the wounds
tell you something real
but you tell me nothing
you never do nothing real
your kind it keeps on cutting
division you create now its all exploding soon
nothing left to break no hope in complaining
all this lay in ruin its a time for mending
gathering of the wounds