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Gallows Album


Grey Britain (05/02/2009)
05/02/2009
1.
2.
London Is The Reason
3.
Leeches
4.
Black Eyes
5.
I Dread The Night
6.
7.
8.
The Riverbed
9.
The Great Forgiver
10.
Graves (feat. Simon Neil)
11.
Queensberry Rules
12.
Misery
13.
. . .


Grey Britain is burning down,
We'll be buried alive before we drown.

The queen is dead and so is the crown
A shallow grave, fit for the ground

Six young coffins on the riverbed,
We're all locked in and laid to rest

Set light to the flag we used to fly,
God help us now, we are ready to die

. . .

London Is The Reason

[No lyrics]

. . .

Leeches

[No lyrics]

. . .

Black Eyes

[No lyrics]

. . .

I Dread The Night

[No lyrics]

. . .


Drag your crosses through the ground
Pull the carcass to the hound
The ship we wrecked is going down.
The weather is a bitch and tonight she howls.
Remember me as you pass by
Cause you are now and once was I
Cause I am now, so you will be
Prepare for death, follow me.

Four nails, Four corners, Four riders and Four horses.
Bring me famine, Bring me death, Bring me warm pestilence
Throw your fists, to the ground, beat by beat as the blows rain down
This is the cold plain world we made for ourselves.
The bed we made is a grave in hell.

Remember me as you pass by
So you are now so once was I
Cause I am now, so you will be
Prepare for death, follow me.
The sky tears open and it pours with blood,
The roof turns red and the streets with blood
Dig up your casket, fill it with stones.
This is the end of the world and we are bringing it home.

Four nails, Four corners, Four riders and Four horses.
Bring me famine, Bring me death, Bring me warm pestilence.
Throw your fists, to the ground, beat by beat as the blows rain down
This is the cold plain world we made for ourselves,
The bed we made is a grave in hell.

So kill yourself cause there ain't nothing else. Go on and fucking kill yourself.

Four nails, Four corners, Four riders and Four horses.
Four tales, Death Voices. No love or corpses.
Throw your fists, down to the ground, beat by beat as the blows rain down
This is the cold plain world we made for ourselves,
The bed we made is a grave in hell.

So kill yourself cause there ain't nothing else.
Go on and fucking kill yourself

. . .


(Act II)

When you work for the father
Your sin is never saved
You carry the net,
and he holds the spade.
You will drag the lakes
And he will rob the graves.
You will be remembered.
No-one will speak your name.

Live by the sword.
Die for the lord.
Call down the vulture
To dine on the corpse.

Cursed are the places you have been,
You lead us there and forced us in..
Take the girls
to become the daughters.
If the horses wont drink
drown them in the water.

When you work for the father
Your sin is never saved
You carry the net,
and he holds the spade.
You will drag the lakes
And he will rob the graves.
You will be remembered.
No-one will speak your name.

Live by the sword.
Die for the lord.
Call down the vultures
To dine on the corpse.

Cursed are the places you have been,
You lead us there and forced us in..
Take the girls
to become the daughters.
If the horses wont drink
drown them in the water.

This is the end

. . .

The Riverbed

[No lyrics]

. . .

The Great Forgiver

[No lyrics]

. . .

Graves

[No lyrics]

. . .

Queensberry Rules

[No lyrics]

. . .

Misery

[No lyrics]

. . .


Nail the bodies to the crucifix,
Slit the throats of all the priests.
The last smile they will ever expect,
A gaping hole running right through their neck.

Snakes get fat while the good rats die,
All the pigs should be bled dry.

Who's with me?

All your sins will be forgiven,
When your blood begins to thicken.
You have the answers to our questions,
God bless this great depression.

The snakes get fat while the good rats die,
And all the pigs should be bled dry.

Who's with me?

Throw the bodies into the streets,
Nothing more than rotten meat.
Taught not to bite the hand that feeds,
Til its cold and dry and no longer bleeds.
The snakes get fat while the good rats die,
So all the pigs should be bled dry.

The London metropolitan,
All the fucking clergy men,
Child abusers, national front,
Rapists, racists, all fucking scum.
And they march hand in hand,
To rape our green and pleasant land.
Dust to dust, earth to earth,
The new born babies drowned at birth.
And there's no future for England's son,
They're nine years old and they all carry guns.
Take out your crowbars, take out your knives,
Drain out your blood, we all deserve to die.

It's time for us, to take a stand,
We are dying, on our knees, in this great fucking land.
And all the martyrs they have convinced themselves,
That death ain't a sin when your living in hell.
There ain't no glory, and there ain't no hope,
We will hang ourselves, just show us the rope.
There ain't no scapegoats left to blame.
We brought this on ourselves, and we could have been the change.

Great Britain is fucking dead,
So cut our throats, end our lives, lets fucking start again.

. . .


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