Sick though it may seem?It has always been a dream?
Of mine to watch you drop?
Like one million freezing flies
Psychopathic my mathematic?
Always sums to zero
Population, your equation always equal hero
Burn, burn
So the fruits of your labours?
Have fermented into wine?
And the sweat that you dripped
Is now the honey of the hive
The city is a burning sun?
And I a blooming flower
The fire, the flame
The passion, the power
Burn, burn
And you, your kindling, innocent
The fruits of your labours
Have fermented into wine?
And the sweat that you dripped
Is now the honey of the hive?
The city is a burning sun?
And I a blooming flower
The fire, the flame?
The passion, the power
Burn, burn
The fire, the flame?
The passion, the power
The fire, the flame?
The passion, the power
Writer(s): Neil Fallon, Jean-paul Gaster, Dan Maines, Richard Timothy Sult
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