A secret I can't see Maybe there's a trace of truth In all that she believes For one day I took a look deep down inside A voice cried saying true love
other Were rows and rows of executioners Some were shirtless, robe less and throbbing with anticipation Sweat delicately sneaking through their body hair All were hooded Some like seventeenth century
secrets they must keep Addicted to your blood at dawn they sleep Unveil the hidden coffin lift the lid of terror Feel the deadly cold freeze you from inside
from inside the grave While they're waiting for a new sign of the strangers Smash the secrets, feel no regrets Oh see how nice, this last sunrise Smash all secrets
time breaking too much mind trying to unravel the parable? that dismantled and left the lines in need of some assembly so I can find the secret key and
inside Centuries later I wonder why What secret they took to their grave? Still burning heretics under our skies Religion's still burning inside At
a secret I can't see? Maybe there's a trace of truth in all that she believes For one day I took a look deep down inside A voice cried, saying, "True
action and no ceasefire in view Brave reporters bring the battles home But tonight inside that box Just more bang-bang ketchup color to him Just more Twentieth Century
, please calm me, please make me a zombie please I want to donate my brain to the monstrous Panasonic profit now, twenty first century plagued dispersed
see My nerves break down inside Maybe you might know much more than me So tell me what is right to say Down the weakness of my soul Lie the secrets,
Split-lickety, spit it could be lit Like this, into me, it is a secret Emcees pretend to be kin to the gift I'm mentally shitting the wisdom of centuries
in action and no ceasefire in view Brave reporters bring the battles home But tonight inside that box Just more bang bang ketchup color to him Just more Twentieth Century
not a word not a word Judas on the ceiling, the Devil in my bed I guess Easter's never coming So I'll just wait inside my head Like a scream but sort
fleeting Twentieth century Icon bleeding Willing to risk Salvation to escape from isolation I'm witness to redemption heard you speak but never listened Can you rid me of my secrets
Cassandra fleeting Twentieth century icon bleeding Willing to risk salvation To escape from isolation I'm witness to redemption Heard you speak but never listened Can you rid me of my secrets
multiply Bastille, rubber wheels, spiked heels Subterranean lullaby Met an african prancer, a hemisphere dancer Spied the ghost of brassens We smiled at the secret
altar flame aglow In the primal shrine Moist and dust Untouched for centuries Ancient bible scripts Phosphorescent glow Reflects in the mould Flickering radiance Inside