Lamb of God – 512

Dit is reg, hier staan ek defiantly in die gesig van die asshole besig om weer oor musiek te skryf, want die cool ding van gevaaalik.com is ek het nie ‘n baas nie en kan doen net wat ek wil. Dus is dit met die grootste vreugde dat ek vir julle die nuutste Lamb of God song kan bring: “512”

VII: Sturm Und Drang is Lamb of God se nuwe album wat vanaf 24 Julie beskikbaar gaan wees. Ek reken oor die komende weke kan ons maar reg staan vir nog songs van die nuwe album af. “512” is die nuutste song wat ons ‘n smakie van VII: Sturm Und Drang gee. Die song is ‘n baie stadiger tempo as wat “Still Echoes” was maar as jy na die lirieke daar onder kyk sal jy sien die tronk nogsteeds ‘n tema is in “512” ook.

Lamb of God VII

“You cannot have the same mentality as the normal guy living on the streets in prison,” sê Lamb of God frontman Randy Blythe. “You undergo a radical mental and emotional shift when you go into prison.”. 512 was ook die nommer van die sel waarin Rany Blythe was in die Czech Republic.

Luister na die song hier onder en laat weet my wat jy dink in die comments. Ek kan nie wag vir die nuwe album nie. Nou moet Tool ook net daardie nuwe album klaar kry.

Lamb of God – 512 Lyrics

Six bars laid across the sky
Four empty walls to fill the time
One careless word, you lose your life
A grave new world awaits inside.

Lycanthropic survival instincts
Embrace the beast and shun the weak
Awake the primal one that sleeps inside
Or feel the shiv(er) running through your spine.

The time is slipping by no peace in sight
But the teeth of time still hold their bite.

My hands are painted red
My future’s painted black
I can’t recognize myself, I’ve become someone else
My hands are painted red.

Schizophrenic amnesia
Bid goodbye to all you knew and loved
Forget the only life that you knew outside
They bought the ticket, now you take the ride.

The time is slipping by no peace in sight
But the teeth of time still hold their bite.

My hands are painted red
My future’s painted black
I can’t recognize myself, I’ve become someone else
My hands are painted red.

Another number quickly learns the rules
A hidden burner waits to point at you
A subtle gesture and you’re ventilated
Talk isn’t cheap here, bleed out in payment.

Six bars laid across the sky
Four empty walls to fill the time.

My hands are painted red
My future’s painted black
I can’t recognize myself, I’ve become someone else
My hands are painted red

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  1. June 15, 2015

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