FUCK ICE 3 (Iron Fangs) Only the hands of desperate cowards Cling so tightly, grasp this hard Until every life blurs into one Until we are the faces in the crowd When it takes six pathetic slugs To murder only one of us They have to know their days are numbered And coming to the end

Drowning in Hours Maybe in the darkness You can touch the textures The stains on the uniforms unfolding And without eyes see truer colors...