Текст …And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead – Monsoon

Rolling thunder like a voice that commands
Raindrops fall like the blood
From your hands
Pray to God, but I doubt that he’s listening

Millions of people quietly sleep
Dreaming of deserts as the puddles grow deep
Dark clouds of rage black out the sun
Rivers will run red with their blood
Their blood
Yeah, their blood
Their blood, their blood
Their blood

No place left dry
No place of shelter
For which to run
People huddle in mass
Waiting for the storm to pass
But it’s just begun

Millions of people, all of you people
Dream of the sandman, but the sandman has turned to mud
Rain falling down, is this another great flood?
The rivers are running red with our blood
Our blood
Yeah, our blood
Our blood, our blood
Our blood

No place left dry