Spring in MacedoniaThe last clean pocket on a blood soaked coatIn a state of claustrophobiawaiting for the rain to wash it all outFear in their eyes, did the crucifix lieDid the words of the church run dryFear in their eyes, did the crucifix lieDid the words of the church run dryI’m a witness to the moon and the stars aboveI’m aware of the crimson skyI’m a witness to the crumbling walls as wellBut I’m not your alibiMeeting on the road to BasraYou half blind in a blood soaked coatme I’m a fallen angelfallen from the burning tree of doubtFear in their eyes, did the crucifix lieDid the words of the church run dryFear in their eyes, did the crucifix liedid the words of the church run dry.I’m a witness to the moon and the stars aboveI’m aware of the crimson skyI’m a witness to the crumbling walls as wellBut I’m not your alibi.War is the last sensationthe final song with the longest notelike a silence, never brokenwar is the book that nobody wrote.Fear in their eyes, did the crucifix lieDid the words of the church run dryFear in their eyes, did the crucifix lieDid the words of the church run dry.I;m a witness to the moon and the stars aboveI’m aware of the crimson skyI’m a witness to the crumbling walls as wellBut I’m not your alibi