Rotting Dead

I'm not your fucking slave!

I'm staring here, crouching.
Waiting for a sign, to cease.
A broken hope, holds me.
Asking me why, I please.
Shattered and scorched I am,
In fragile pieces I turn.

My face is torn and never heals, through the years.

I have became a rotting dead,
Like thrown in between.
Pieces of flesh on me.
And I - I want break!

Pick up right now, they said.
And never mind, what's left.
The time will come, to excuse.
What I have take, or refused.

My face is torn and never heals, through the years.

I have became a rotting dead,
Like thrown in between.
Pieces of flesh on me.
And I - I want break, I want take,
Everything that has left, from my remains,
I will left everything, that let me down.

Run, take, break, left, breathe,
Refuse, resist, never regret!



Credits
Writer(s): František Fišer, Jan Filip, Jiří Frischholz, Vladislav Prokop
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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