The cellar is quite, cool, dry.
The pain inside, the hate and anger, all hidden
From mortal eyes they are forbidden
Locked away in a big gray room
Kept under lock and key
Hidden away...
Until this day
The floor shakes
The earth quakes
The bottles fall,
The glass brakes
Broken bottles, empty
Shattered all around me
The hate, pain, and the anger flood the room
And i\'m right in the middle
Then the bottles
Oh, the busted, broken bottles
They will refill and be replaced
With more and more...and more
More hate, pain...more anger and rage
Waiting...Waiting for the next big quake.