2050 Songtext
von Wake The Dead

On this huge threatened soil
The cold prevails
Silence is an evil omen

Messenger of death
Owls no longer sing
The three bells are ringing

Frost is turning
To a blood-stained face

We will suffocate
Running out of air
But you don′t seem to care

You will not be saved
By praying your lord

Only actions can stand up
To the Damocles sword

Concrete and sustainable
It will have to be


If you want a future
It's about degrees

The forthcoming risk
Of breathing shortage

Shouldn′t be your only fear
It should be your only concern

Process underway
In 2050

Half of this cursed landscape
Will have disappeared

Melting at sight
Melting at sight

And your fucking gold rush
Will wipe all us out
With your fucking gold rush
We're about to die
The forthcoming risk
Has turned to a lethal run
Methane and mercury
Take over our lungs