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Ill Designs

Omens专辑

  • 作词 : David Randall Blythe/William M. Adler/John Steven Campbell/Mark Duane Morton
    作曲 : David Randall Blythe/William M. Adler/John Steven Campbell/Mark Duane Morton
    Now that you can’t come back
    To face your own reflection
    Constructing your collapse
    Designing your destruction

    With ill designs burned in your eyes
    Hide in the shadow of your lies, antagonize
    Virtue displaced, a pure disgrace
    No dignity, a barren waste, still on the take
    Who will you be today?

    Reap the rotten fruits of your labor
    A bitter taste of exile and failure
    Fatal flaws becoming clearer
    Reptile eyes in the mirror.

    Loss of reality, obsessing over control
    And with a crooked mentality watch it all implode and fall away
    A tragedy your sick intentions on display a strategy
    And in the end you can’t pretend
    It’s not the spoils your intent, malevolence.

    Reap the rotten fruits of your labor
    A bitter taste of exile and failure
    Fatal flaws becoming clearer
    Reptile eyes in the mirror.

    Every back you stabbed, and every disrespect
    Turns back on you, cause and effect
    Strings you pulled and decks you stacked
    A falling house of cards, a pathetic wreck.

  • 作词 : David Randall Blythe/William M. Adler/John Steven Campbell/Mark Duane Morton
    作曲 : David Randall Blythe/William M. Adler/John Steven Campbell/Mark Duane Morton
    Now that you can’t come back
    To face your own reflection
    Constructing your collapse
    Designing your destruction

    With ill designs burned in your eyes
    Hide in the shadow of your lies, antagonize
    Virtue displaced, a pure disgrace
    No dignity, a barren waste, still on the take
    Who will you be today?

    Reap the rotten fruits of your labor
    A bitter taste of exile and failure
    Fatal flaws becoming clearer
    Reptile eyes in the mirror.

    Loss of reality, obsessing over control
    And with a crooked mentality watch it all implode and fall away
    A tragedy your sick intentions on display a strategy
    And in the end you can’t pretend
    It’s not the spoils your intent, malevolence.

    Reap the rotten fruits of your labor
    A bitter taste of exile and failure
    Fatal flaws becoming clearer
    Reptile eyes in the mirror.

    Every back you stabbed, and every disrespect
    Turns back on you, cause and effect
    Strings you pulled and decks you stacked
    A falling house of cards, a pathetic wreck.