Testi:
Orta Marcia

Is there nothing sacred anymore? Raise your head and say: WELL DONE, WELL DONE, WELL DONE. Before they put you in a casket, So you know that you were

RidoMC Eh yo!Sempre a spasso con la fama,un negroni nella mano e una vita poco sana.Che mi stana,no,che mi ama,no,la domenica e gli amici che mi chiamano

Capture your soul with a vengeful feast I will hunt down and conquer Send your best to the grave For your crime they all will pay I lurk in the shadows

Time's venom boils Every breath ticking towards torment This carrier exposes our instability I will battle on I must choose a throne to succeed This

Clenched fist - Hot blooded Make no mistake These eyes have seen what drives the blind I need a cutman to bleed these angry eyes Hallowed are those

Hell yeah We are the pulse of the world Yeah Our eyes have grown so wide Don't hold back Keep your eyes on the prize Always Will Yeah Toe the line We

We've bid our time All patience claimed Content with nothing Our lives lived not in vain Not in vain It's calling - It's calling I fear the hold as

Arise and be comforted For the Lord, He is good to the weary And even the young heart can tire and fall But He knows them all For the Lord, He will renew

Capture your souls with a vengeful fist I will hunt down and conquer Send your best to the grave For your crime I've suffered I lurk in the shadows Entombed