Blood, Death & Taxes

So close so far away

suspected so you say

They´ve got a place for me

I´m a displaced society.

I´m not looking for compensation

I want some justice

Tell you what they want from me

Blood, death and taxes.

Fed up - My hands are tied

Frustrated - Down the line

Busted and out of time.

How could I have been so blind.

They won´t fuckin´ rest until I´m dead.