White Chapel - Scapegoat

We’ve sent our own on a mission

We vote our sons to die

Well I can never fucking fathom

Anybody’s savior sending them to murder a nation

Start a rebellion if you please

Well I please

As I bring out your dead

This air has aged with such stagnance

As we uphold and behold

Those whom have belayed these molds

The molds in which we’re forced to fit

The molds our people have been slaved with

The molds our children will be plagued with

In a world knee deep in bodies this air represents inevitability

Rebel, rebel, yell, rebel, hands up

Self govern or hop aboard with the impostors

I feel this notion hath wait

But I feel this notion has taken its toll on us

Rebel, rebel, yell, rebel, hands up

Divorce all prior existence

Acknowledge the thought that there might be something more

The more before the board had been built

The pieces no mold

Inevitable destruction with no instruction

Lets give unto the man, as he has given unto us

Bring the metal

Who brings the metal?

The dead bring the metal

Thou shalt not be bent over

Thou shalt not further this crusade

We’ll sail our ships into your mother fucking icebergs

Rebel, rebel, yell, rebel, hands up

Self govern or hop aboard with the impostors

I feel this notion hath wait

But I fear this notion has taken its hold on us

Rebel, rebel, yell, rebel, hands up

Thou shalt not follow in their way

Thou shalt not further this crusade

Head stones a row, fall in line

As I bring out your dead

Thou shalt not further this crusade.

We’ll sail our ships into your mother fucking icebergs