Murrow Turning Over in His Grave
All the sainted sinners
They pay handsomely
And eventually?
They make the weapons
And they run the prisons
And they sell the justice
Cause being guilty is
Just good business
And we'll be standing on
The borderline
Ain't no one there gonna
Stop it now
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
He's gonna turn wild
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
He's gonna run wild
Half-closed eyes
And the country's deadly
Do you feel the ooze as your brain drains out
From your pneumatic drills and sharpening knives
Blood in the sky
Are you dead or alive?
All the restless people and the bitter green
Well it fakes this gold, makes the spirit mean
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
He's gonna turn wild
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
He's gonna run wild
Murrow se Revolvendo no Túmulo
Todos os santos pecadores
Eles pagam bem
E eventualmente?
Eles fabricam as armas
E controlam as prisões
E vendem a justiça
Porque ser culpado é
Só um bom negócio
E estaremos em pé na
Linha de frente
Ninguém vai
Parar isso agora
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Melhor tomar cuidado
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Ele vai enlouquecer
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Melhor tomar cuidado
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Ele vai sair do controle
Olhos semi-fechados
E o país é mortal
Você sente a gosma enquanto seu cérebro escorre
Das suas furadeiras pneumáticas e facas afiadas
Sangue no céu
Você está morto ou vivo?
Todas as pessoas inquietas e o verde amargo
Bem, isso finge ser ouro, torna o espírito mesquinho
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Melhor tomar cuidado
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Ele vai enlouquecer
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Melhor tomar cuidado
Murrow se revolvendo no túmulo
Ele vai sair do controle
Composição: Lindsey Buckingham