Unregistered Firearm/ Ravachol in Valhalla/ Crom

Colors, of such that our eyes were burned
And gold boughs, from which to hang oneself
We've got reasons, like the season's ringing
We've got weapons without name

Mirthless, though dressed up in comedy
The screen's glow is hiding the Mammon beast
We've got reasons, like the season's ringing
We've got weapons without name

It cauterized the senses that allowed us real life
The carrot is how we avert our eyes
And in time, we're willing to lick and to contrive
We've got reasons like the season's ringing
We've got weapons without name

Spending, in digital atmosphere
Smiling, as we've learned to love the stick
We've got reasons, like the season's ringing
We've got weapons without name

Choking back emotions into character armor

The wizened paw of Crom is a-hanging off 'is leg
His ribs are sticking out like a leather bird cage
He's aged so many years in the past few days

Oh Crom, you're such a good dog
Ease this pressure, lay down weaker
Gasp and shudder, and never stand up again

Can not feel them, Can not feed them, Can not hear them
As the dogs, they bale and whine

Yea, I am weak, we all are weak, but I'm not as weak as you;
With a dead dog in your arms
Raise him colder to the sky
Raise him colder to the sky

The wizened paw of Crom is a-hanging off 'is arm
His ribs are sticking out like a leather bird cage
He's aged so many years in the past few days

Oh Crom, you're such a good dog
Ease this pressure, lay down weaker
Gasp and shudder, and never stand up again

Can not feel them, Can not feed them, Can not hear them
As the dogs, they bale and whine

With a needle and its tip to suck the life and starve a dog
The boy is lying on the floor
Raise him colder to the sky
Raise him colder to the sky
Raise him colder to the sky