Weathermen

A black sheep bleeds rage from its eyes
Chaos shakes the ground
And the sky turns black when old buildings start to fall down
We will drag our skulls until we stand
Those who don't remember the past are condemned to repeat it
We breathe panic attacks
Dirty pigs are going to be sold as martyrs
They march along the way to die
Aware and restless, they can't stop our turmoil
Those who don't remember the past are condemned to repeat it