The Betrayers


We are betrayers of perfection
Love spoken from these lips means nothing
All eyes on me
Looking left from right
Pulling poison from petals
Crimson roses corrode
Murder meadow

Death fills your harvest
In fields of blood

Your betrayals stretch for miles
Oh how my hands do shake
Stretched out to receive

The coins sing, as they hit the ground
Oh, how the silver shines in our eyes
We are betrayers of perfection