Kill for gain or shoot to maim
But we don't need a reason
The Golden Goose is on the lose
And never out of season
Some blackened pride burns inside
This shell of bloody treason
Here's my gun for the barrel of fun
For the love of the living death
The killer's breed, or the demon's seed
The glamor, the fortune, the pain
G o to war again, blood is freedom stain
But don't you pray for soul anymore.
2 minutes to midnight
The hands that threaten doom
2 minutes to midnight
To kill the unborn in the womb
The blind men shout, let the creatures out
We'll show the unbelievers
The NAPALM screams of humans flames
Of a prime time Betson feast yeah!
As the reasons for carnage cut their meat and lick they gravy
We oil the jaws of the war machine and feed it with our babies
2 minutes to midnight
The hands that threaten doom
2 minutes to midnight
To kill the unborn in the womb
The body bags and the little rags of children torn in two
And the jellied brains of those who remains to put finger right on you
As the Madman play on words and makes us all dance to their song
To the tune of starving millions to make a better kind of gun
The killer's breed, or the demon's seed
The glamor, the fortune, the pain
G o to war again, blood is freedom stain
But don't you pray for soul anymore.
2 minutes to midnight
The hands that threaten doom
2 minutes to midnight
To kill the unborn in the womb
Midnight, midnight, is all night
Midnight, midnight, is all night
Midnight, is all night