From First to Last - 211 Lyrics

Get the lyrics to the song: 211 by From First to Last at LyricsKeeper.com.
211

211 Lyrics |
---|
What Are The Lyrics For 211 By From First to Last?
There's something eating at the man,
He's a slave to the sound, The puppeteers fly high above the ground, No heart, the beast took its toll, The corporation pumping black in his soul, Their eyes gouged by the lack of information, But sooner or later you'll see. Their eyes gouged by the lack of information, But sooner or later you'll see. F*ck you, what did we do? We're the machine in our own mess, Oh no, where did we go? Running the fortress, I say we set this top ablaze And star it over. I'd like to tear this temple down, And I watch the crumbling stone Smash skulls, I'll turn this bloody mess Into my home No heart, the beast took its toll, The corporation pumping black in his soul, Their eyes gouged by the lack of information. Come on! F*ck you, what did we do? We're the machine in our own mess, Oh no, where did we go? Running the fortress, I say we set this top ablaze And star it over. There's something living in the man, And he fights for the sound, Your corporate bullshit lies beneath The cemetery ground. F*ck you, what did we do? We're the machine in our own mess, Oh no, where did we go? Running the fortress, I say we set this top ablaze And star it over. [x2] |
Who Wrote 211 By From First to Last?
Ernie Slenkovich, Matt Good, Matt Manning, Spencer Sotelo, Taylor Larson, Travis Richter
|
What's The Duration Of The 211 By From First to Last?The duration of 211 is 3:46 minutes and seconds. |
More Lyrics
0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z
Lyrics Of The Day
- The Rockin' Highliners: It Doesn't Matter Yo this is the Rock kicking it with the Refugee camp…
- Buck Clarke: I'll Remember April This lovely day will lengthen into evening…
- Katherine Ellis: When You Touch Me [Bart B Moor Dub] Well you're boring me now…
- Mukala: Regret Maybe I was six or maybe five or three…
- Mary Ellen Tanner: But Not for Me Old man sunshine listen you…