we are the pissed off

the blooded fists strike again the walls cold touch absorb the pain when sorry isn't enough blood will be spilt the walls of blood will be built i strain against my urge you face i will purge smashed to the blooded pulp the life blood you will gulp no song heavy enough no way to portray the anger welled up but someone will pay my fists they shake with the audience they seek the power i feel my muscles they peek the blooded fists strike again the walls cold touch absorb the pain when sorry isn't enough blood will be spilt the walls of blood will be built the drums beat the beat to which we stamp our feet the guitar plays the riff the knucles so stiff the pain i will cause will have no pause so run scott run the pain plays a pun i will catch you scott and when i do you pittyful life will be through the blooded fists strike again the walls cold touch absorb the pain when sorry isn't enough blood will be spilt the walls of blood will be built stronger, faster, smarter you will be made a martyer as i run you down throw your face to the ground snap you legs use them like pegs to skewer your body you will be sorry my body twitches to avenge the bitches to break your neck and before i forget it's too late for sorry