Those of My Kind

Cutting his brothers,
That would be good,
But still he's lacking.
Fake they should, ooh.

Cutting his brothers,
That would be good,
But still he's lacking.
Fake they should,
Faked they should have.

He was like too far to me, you know?
But now he's just an ID of death row.
I judge he too weak to strengthen to way.
I found in the crypt the disease and the pain,
And now, he should be grown.

Cutting his brothers,
That would be good,
But still he's lacking.
Fake they should, ooh.

Cutting his brothers,
That would be good,
But still he's lacking.
Fake they should,
Faked they should have.

This is something we could hear from that vicious.
Let's wait, she'll repeat. Is it you or the bitches?
So we remain this happy, I don't give a shit.
The music is crappy, the words are all here.
A bitch like living.

How will you tell me from those of my kind?
How will you know I won't fuck up your mind?

Cutting his brothers,
That would be good,
But still he's lacking.
Fake they should, ooh.

Cutting his brothers,
That would be good,
But still he's lacking.
Fake they should,
Faked they should have.

How will you tell me from those of my kind?
How will you know I won't fuck up your mind?



Credits
Writer(s): Trond Engum
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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