Harsh, Harsh, Harsh

There’s a storm coming in
It’s getting stronger with every mile that it eats
There’s a storm coming in
It’s getting stronger with every mile that it eats
Fueled by the taste of broken defeat
You better run for shelter, I hope you find shelter
And they will come like thieves in the night
Blood on their daggers, smiles on their faces, they are never satisfied
So let them come and let the fire spread
Let our anthem scar the skies:
«We are not the living dead»
I want to suck water out of the clouds
Set fire to all my doubts
Hold mountains in my hand
Crush them into grains of sand
Because if everything I build will surely fall down
I want to be a devastator so they all know that I was around