Red Suburb
Under Scarlet Sky
At the Gates of Hell
Yet another madman armed with a revolver,
A shotgun or a pistol soldier
Weapon under arm, obviously suicidal
You hold the butt of the gun with an inexpert touch
The enemies are everywhere, the street is their lair
Terrified by these shadows, your stomach tightens
Panic rises within you and takes over your guts
This surge of hysteria is eating away at you like a cancer
Do you feel the anguish and carnivorous fear
The furious violence that grips you with its claws
Tell me do you see death slipping like a viper
Training you in spite of © you at the gates of hell
Don't you hear the murderous hysteria rumbling
Which will lead all men to the gates of hell
You look the shiny, cold and austere metal
Of this firearm of which you are more than proud
You regain your strength by glaring at the adversary
And you grind your teeth, you spit, you vociferate
Don't you see death, in these bitter looks
Shine with the same brilliance as the fangs of a cerberus
These men are like you, they will go to the cemetery
The weapon that you all hold, will return you to the earth
And the cathode ray screen shows me once again
Sad idiots, who don't realize...
The darkness is there, all draped in black
There right behind them, ready to receive them
Let it be shots, blades or bars
With piano wire or barbed iron
From now on we perceive murder as an art
And killers in rie find themselves glorified
The scenes of carnage are more bloody every day
Humanity arrives at the gates of hell...

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