Bis - Dead Wrestlers lyrics
[Bis - Dead Wrestlers lyrics]
I can't tell the difference
The soap box or the stage?
It's just like the process
When wrestling became fake genuine believers
Are shunted and sheltered
Who will be remembered?
When they fall and they die by submission
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
My hope is gone it's gone, it's gone
Believing in something
Can sometimes mean nothing
Conviction can be tamed
Why do you feel ashamed?
Diluted and dumbed down
The edit, the voice sound my TV, no volume
I can't hear, I just see the lips moving
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
My hope is gone
It's gone, it's gone on dead wrestlers
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
I don't belong
In songs, in songs of dead wrestlers
We work hard we live hard
We work hard we live hard
We sing the songs
Ihe songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
My hope is gone
It's gone, it's gone on dead wrestlers
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
I don't belong
In songs, in songs of dead wrestlers
Your politics are pantomime
Your punches miss me every time
Maybe I'll see you on the other side
When we have nowhere left to hide
The soap box or the stage?
It's just like the process
When wrestling became fake genuine believers
Are shunted and sheltered
Who will be remembered?
When they fall and they die by submission
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
My hope is gone it's gone, it's gone
Believing in something
Can sometimes mean nothing
Conviction can be tamed
Why do you feel ashamed?
Diluted and dumbed down
The edit, the voice sound my TV, no volume
I can't hear, I just see the lips moving
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
My hope is gone
It's gone, it's gone on dead wrestlers
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
I don't belong
In songs, in songs of dead wrestlers
We work hard we live hard
We work hard we live hard
We sing the songs
Ihe songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
My hope is gone
It's gone, it's gone on dead wrestlers
We sing the songs
The songs, the songs of dead wrestlers
I don't belong
In songs, in songs of dead wrestlers
Your politics are pantomime
Your punches miss me every time
Maybe I'll see you on the other side
When we have nowhere left to hide