Funker Vogt

Shadows in the whirling rain
a young man knees on the street
his executioners in front of him
bullets bounce along the walls
a last attempt of dispair
no matter how poorly they shoot
a riccochet could still kill
in the pale afterlight
see the car's headlight beam
hear the high-pitched song of death
a dirty street filled with steam
here is no soul insight
you finally escape the trap
just a stupid incident
the wrong time at the wrong place
now enjoy your solitude
deep down inside the ruins
don't glance behind you
leave all the screams outside
in the pale afterlight
see the car's headlight beam
hear the high-pitched song of death
a dirty street filled with steam