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August Burns Red - Home - Your Little Suburbia Is in Ruins
Home
01. Intro
02. Back Burner
03. White Washed
04. Your Little Suburbia Is in Ruins
05. The Eleventh Hour
06. Meddler
07. Truth of a Liar
08. Marianas Trench
09. Thirty and Seven
10. Existence
11. Meridian
12. A Shot Below the Belt
13. Up Against the Ropes
14. Composure
15. The Seventh Trumpet
Open those eyes, wake from peace
Open those eyes, wake form peace

Orders are some favorite color
"Same old same old" is their battle cry
Why don't we keep searching, searching for a new flavor?

Our hearts have become routine
Our hearts have become routine
Our hearts have become routine

Worthy kings have broken backs for nothing
Worthy kings have broken backs

Unless we cherish all with pride
The lines on our face will turn into canyons of sorrow instead of hope

They didn't die from cold without but they died from cold within
They didn't die from cold without but they died from cold within
They didn't die from cold without but they died from cold within

And I just can't stop denying that our brothers are in miserable pain
And I just can't stop denying that our brothers are in miserable pain

Open those eyes, wake from peace
Open those eyes, wake from peace

Stop short
Lend a hand and break the chains of regularity from which you hold, you lean so closely upon, so closely upon

Your little Suburbia is in ruins, is in ruins

Tear down all the assumptions you hold
Tear down all the assumptions you hold, tear them down
Tear down all the assumptions you hold, tear them down

For I guarantee they are false
Sometimes the best feeling may be the one that kills