Weathermen

A black sheep bleeds rage from its eyesChaos shakes the ground and the sky turns black when old buildings start to fall downWe will drag our skulls until we standThose who don't remember the past are condemned to repeat itWe breathe panic attacksDirty pigs are going to be sold as martyrs they march along the way to dieAware and restless, they can't stop our turmoilThose who don't remember the past are condemned to repeat it