А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Э Ю Я
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Текст и слова песни Protest the Hero – A Plateful Of Our Dead

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Don"t ever ask us to define our morals
Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak
Some of us are all of us; half-selves that love whole hopes
And hara-kiri heartbreak

There"s almost nothing worse than never being real
Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear
If I had a gun I"d pump your ethics full of lead
If I believed in meat I"d eat a plateful of our dead

There"s merit in construction when it"s done with your own hands
There"s beauty in destruction, resurrection, another chance
There"s a you and I in union but just an I in our beliefs
There"s a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone"s naïve

The only proof that I have that we shot and killed this horse
Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse
When I"m In this state of reflection and you hand me whips
And two by fours I could never bring them down and beat the same horse as before

I"d rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds around
Until a garden with our bullet-laden morals will be found

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