Trap Them

Hellionaires

LYRIC

Preachers in the little deaths, they got what they've asked
They got an autumned hearse as it drove right by

And I all got together
And I all dropped together
And I all tossed and turned
As I drowned out my peace
I had my own little deaths
With my own little kinds

War is my mistress adore, the one that I've always had
War is the mainline mirage that fills what I can't
[?]

In the eyes of the has-beens
In the trails of the animal cunts and I know
War is my mistress adore, the one that I've always had
War is the mainline mirage that feels what I can't
[?]

War, war is my mistress adore that I've always had
War is the mainline that feels what I can't

And when my bankrupt neck
And my skull full of debt can't stand
I'm making my way towards death's wooden door
And I'm bringing a fucking battering ram

I'll bring a fucking battering ram
In the name
In the name of the kindred dirt
In the name of our failures
In the name of our failures well-earned
All of us has-beens
All of us animal cunts
All of us bleed in the name of all of us born
All of us born
With hellionaire blood

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