Vultures are out there waiting, riding on the wall,
it's fate, it's time for the night, still alive
They wanna leave you in a mess, re -cut your snow -white flesh,
how sore you bled, still alive
someday you'll be on your feet
One day we'll change, still alive
All the while the world is turning,
And cities burn in a picture that's real,
History recalls another painting on the wall
Gonna leave you in a mess,
Your flesh is time, you bled, still alive
some days you'll be on your feet
Who are these false prophets who
would give us our premature burial
Don't they know we can't die,
Then flush us away, in a flood of lies
We survived their poison,
Now we have no eyes, we paint in blood
The picture of still life