---

The moon is full

Burning red

Voices speak

From inside your head

The dead will turn

In their graves is

There anything

Left to save?

A pitch-black horizon

Eats up the sun

Is Rock really dead now?

Words without

A melody

Tries to dictate

How things should be

We need more fuel

To feed the flame

Or the bullet

Will miss the aim

We turn up the volume

But will there be sound?

Is Rock really dead now?

We have to make it

Our battleground

Or Rock will be dead now