Marching Songtext
von The Mavis’s

You fought for a god
Who was dealing a low blow
He was counting cash
While the blood dried onto you

All your friends are
Getting bitter
All your guns are
Marching after you

Fever dream and dust
No reflection looking back
Children hide in rafters
From the innocence they lack

All your friends are
Getting older
All your guns are
Marching after you


I fear your call
Not here at all
I fear your call
Not here at all

Sparks flying from Mars
Are the daggers in your soul
Bricks falling to pieces
We′re just looking out for you

All your friends are
Getting colder
All your guns are
Marching after you

I fear your call
Not here at all
All your friends are
Getting weirder
All your guns are
Whoa whoa whoa