Out Of The Silent Planet (Gers, Dickinson, Harris)
Withered hands, withered bodies begging for salvation Deserted by the hand of gods of their own creation Nations cry underneath decaying skies above You are guilty, the punishment is death for all who live The punishment is death for all who live
Out of the silent planet, dreams of desolation Out of the silent planet, Come the demons of creation Out of the silent planet, dreams of desolation Out of the silent planet, Come the demons of creation
The killing fields, the grinding wheels crushed by equilibrium Separate lives no more disguise, no more second chances Haggard wisdom spitting out the bitter taste of hate I accuse you before you know the crime it's all too late Before you know the crime it's all too late
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