Unregistered Firearm/ Ravachol in Valhalla/ Crom

Colors, of such that our eyes were burned
 And gold boughs, from which to hang oneself
 We've got reasons, like the season's ringing
 We've got weapons without name
 Mirthless, though dressed up in comedy
 The screen's glow is hiding the Mammon beast
 We've got reasons, like the season's ringing
 We've got weapons without name
 It cauterized the senses that allowed us real life
 The carrot is how we avert our eyes
 And in time, we're willing to lick and to contrive
 We've got reasons like the season's ringing
 We've got weapons without name
 Spending, in digital atmosphere
 Smiling, as we've learned to love the stick
 We've got reasons, like the season's ringing
 We've got weapons without name
 Choking back emotions into character armor
 The wizened paw of Crom is a-hanging off 'is leg
 His ribs are sticking out like a leather bird cage
 He's aged so many years in the past few days
 Oh Crom, you're such a good dog
 Ease this pressure, lay down weaker
 Gasp and shudder, and never stand up again
 Can not feel them, Can not feed them, Can not hear them
 As the dogs, they bale and whine
 Yea, I am weak, we all are weak, but I'm not as weak as you;
 With a dead dog in your arms
 Raise him colder to the sky
 Raise him colder to the sky
 The wizened paw of Crom is a-hanging off 'is arm
 His ribs are sticking out like a leather bird cage
 He's aged so many years in the past few days
 Oh Crom, you're such a good dog
 Ease this pressure, lay down weaker
 Gasp and shudder, and never stand up again
 Can not feel them, Can not feed them, Can not hear them
 As the dogs, they bale and whine
 With a needle and its tip to suck the life and starve a dog
 The boy is lying on the floor
 Raise him colder to the sky
 Raise him colder to the sky
 Raise him colder to the sky