In the distance there is a rumble, it's coming for you, you best believe
You can taste the fear, salty on the tongue, cooked to perfection in a hatred oven
The petrol has been added, the flames grow taller as the smoke fills the air
There is a cry for some godly help as the children run in despair
War sounds, not to be messed with
Even a lion would shy away
Cowering behind the legs of the innocent as the money goes up in flames
I like staying awake so I can keep an eye on the monsters trying to break in through my window with one eye open and my other in a dream
I'd prefer to stay alive but what do I know
The landing light glimmers, showing every chip in the wallpaper
The carpet is the soil of a careful tip-toer
War sounds, not to be messed with
Even a lion would shy away
Cowering behind the legs of the innocent
As the money goes up in flames
