encoding: utf-8
Artist: Protest The Hero
Album: Kezia
Title: A Plateful Of Our Dead

Don't ever ask us to define our morals

Sometimes when fundamentals

Meet teenage heartbreak

Some of us are all of us

Half-selves that love whole hopes

And hari-kiri heartbreak



There's almost nothing worse

Than never being real

Strained voices crying wolf

When nobody can hear

If I had a gun

I'd pump your ethics full of lead

If I believed in meat

I'd eat a plateful of our dead



There's merit in destruction

When it's done with your own hands

There's beauty in construction

Resurrection, another chance

There's a u and i in union

But just an i in our beliefs

There's a crashing plane with a banner

That reads "everyone's naive"



The only proof that I have

That we shot and killed this horse

Is the sounds of whips on flesh

And a bleeding heart remorse

When I'm in this state of reflection

And you hand me whips and two-by-fours

I could never bring them down

And beat the same horse as before



I'd rather kill a stupid flower

And spread it's seeds, until a garden

With our bullet-laden morals will be found