Londons End - Lyrics Yeah The reaper hits the city like a god of war Hounds of hell are scratching at your door To bring the uprising of a violence spree Yeah it doesn’t mean much to me Hit the rock bottom of a victim line Smoke a cigarette from a pack of lies Tryna calm fears now on the tv But it doesn’t mean much to me It doesn’t mean much to me The gun is his hand The gun is in my head The gun is in my hand In the city that’s running red There’s a city that’s running red It’s Londons end. Prevent the future from the mess we’re in Write a long letter to your next of kin Spreading out the wealth When you murder the king It won’t matter much to him Yeah love your fellow neighbour Open up your door Pouring out your arms to embrace the poor Scoring down points from your media whores When you invite the war You become the war The gun is his hand The gun is in my head The gun is in my hand In the city that’s running red There’s a city that’s running red It’s Londons end. In the city Running red Yeah Snap another picture On your mobile phone Invite another thief to invade your home Another fucked up social media drone It’s all about what you own Finger on the trigger of society A terrifying blip in our humanity A deconstruction of the filthy century But it doesn’t mean much to me It doesn’t mean much to me The gun is his hand The gun is in my head The gun is in my hand In the city that’s running red There’s a city that’s running red It’s Londons end. In the city