Now that we're going to blow ourselves up to pieces
All that we love will die in vain
And disappear in a grand show
Nothing will ever feel the same
But the speeches Nothing will breathe or grow again
When we get buried
in the snow
And you'll see the sky painted red
Tainted by all the blood shed
And you'll hear the wailing sirens
Thinking this is how the world ends
When the cynical madmen
Turn it into a nightmare
With his stone-cold dead hands
That's what we're going to blow ourselves
up to pieces
All that we love will die in vain
And disappear
in a grand show
