Who Needs The Young
Who needs the young
The revelation of their faces and their hair
When all we have are withered traces of the faces we once were
And suffocation in the dirty fatal air
Who needs the young bodies floating in the sun
Who needs the young
The celebration of the races that they've have won
The sado masochistic things they've never done disgusting
And all the places that we never will have gone
Who needs the young bodies floating in the sun
Who needs the young
My eyes just aren't what they were
My eyes just aren't what they were
My eyes just aren't what they were
Is there anyone left who can see
Blind him
My lips just aren't what they were
My lips just aren't what they were
My lips just aren't what they were
Is there anyone left who can kiss
Spit on him
My mind just isn't what it was
My mind just isn't what it was
My mind just isn't what it was
Is there anyone left who can dream
Wake him
My legs just aren't what they were
My legs just aren't what they were
My legs just aren't what they were
Is there anyone left who can dance
Cripple him
My voice just isn't what it was
My voice just isn't what it was
My voice just isn't what it was
Is there anyone left who can sing
Silence him
My *** just isn't what is was
My *** just isn't what is was
My *** just isn't what is was
Is there anyone left who can ****
Screw them
Who needs the young
The perfect star of flesh that never has to cry
Who needs the filthy morning passed from thigh to thigh
Who needs the self appointed prophets waving banners in the bloodshot sky
Who needs the young when we're spending
All the rest of our wonderful lives learning to die