Disasters of War (It's What You're Born For) - Pictureplane

They keep their eyes on me

Even those that choose not to see

We sit pretty with our empathy

Black painted shells

Youth cast under a spell

Nothing more than just a ghost in the shell

Because you’re my angel of rage

But all I see is desecration and flames

I dipped my hands in blood

Crawled my way out through the mud

Because you’re my flower of rage

Disasters of war

It’s what you’re born for

Disasters of war

It’s what you’re born for

It’s what you’re born for

Disasters of war

It’s what you’re born for

Disasters of war