It doesn't matter if we all die

Ambition in the back of a black car

In a high building there is so much to do

Going home time, a story on the radio

Something small falls out of your mouth and we laugh

A prayer for something better,

a prayer for something better

Please love me, meet my mother, but the fear takes hold

Creeping up the stairs in the dark

Waiting for the death blow

Waiting for the death blow

Waiting for the death blow

Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot

Fighting for freedom on the television

Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs

Have we got everything? She struggles to get away

The pain and the creeping feeling,

a little black haired girl

Waiting for Saturday

the death of her father pushing her

Pushing her white face into the mirror

Aching inside me and turn me round

Just like the old days

Just like the old days

Just like the old days

Caressing an old man and painting a lifeless face

Just a piece of new meat in a clean room

The soldiers close in under a yellow moon

All shadows and deliverance under a black flag

A hundred years of blood crimson

The ribbon tightens round my throat

I open my mouth and my head bursts open

A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water

Thrashing in the water

Over and over we die one after the other

Over and over we die one after the other

After the other

After the other

After the other

After the other

After the other

It feels like a hundred years

One hundred years

One hundred years

One hundred years

One hundred years