Wear 10 crowns, dragons heads
Southern are the sons, the lords unmatched
Their eyes down don't look right, should they be trusted now
Trash mouthed Gods, avoiding kings
With the spirit of revolt, the ghost of the youthEvery fucking year it stays the same
Everybody changes to suit the day
Out of pride I'll isolate my fears
Never turned our backs on why we're here
We'll grind that axe for a long timeFollow close the train of fools
Just like them (could be) just like you
Their eyes don't seem right
Easily impressed plague, for dressed up fakes
(I have) no respectEvery fucking year remains the same
Everybody sucks up to suit the day
Out of hate I'll isolate myself
Through the worst we still march into hell[Repeat: x2]
We'll grind that axe for a long timeThe smell in the air is chicken shitEvery fucking song remains the same
To everyone who sucks up for the fame
Out of strength you know we speak the truth
Every trend that dies is living proof
We'll grind that axe for a long time
Songwriters
DARRELL LANCE ABBOTT, PHILIP ANSELMO, PHILIP HANSEN ANSELMO, REX BROWN, REX ROBERT BROWN, VINCENT PAUL ABBOTTPublished by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.