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The hearts of men have grown tired and weak |
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Welcome to all forms of corruption |
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Blind to all, but power, profit and gain |
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And all of our earthly possessions |
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We decorate, happily our tombs to be |
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With the brilliant art of illusion |
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Perpetuating the cycle |
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All surface, no depth |
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Without destitution there would be no sickening wealth |
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The medication, the guilt |
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The low self-esteem and the nervous sweat |
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The sleeping troubles, the cancers |
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The heart attacks, the early deaths |
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The end of justice, the radiant fires |
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The waste left behind in the all-cleansing flames |
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The poisonous fumes from our own funeral pyre |
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The pesticide that we inhale |
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We feed the machines with our blood, our sweat |
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The phantoms are here, I can hear them |
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Gathered in flocks they watch over our steps |
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Our intellect, it must not be awakened |
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With their broken promises, your broken backs |
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By the new world order oppressed |
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All who question their methods |
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All who question their reasons |
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All who question their ethics |
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Silenced by the crack of the whip of progress |
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The medication, the guilt |
|
The low self-esteem and the nervous sweat |
|
The sleeping troubles, the cancers |
|
The heart attacks, the early deaths |
|
The end of justice, the radiant fires |
|
The waste left behind in the all-cleansing flames |
|
The poisonous fumes from our own funeral pyre |
|
The pesticide that we inhale |
|
All who question their methods |
|
All who question their reasons |
|
All who question their ethics |
|
Silenced by the crack of the whip of progress |
|
The medication, the guilt |
|
The low self-esteem and the nervous sweat |
|
The sleeping troubles, the cancers |
|
The heart attacks, the early deaths |
|
The end of justice, the radiant fires |
|
The waste left behind in the all-cleansing flames |
|
The poisonous fumes from our own funeral pyre |
|
The pesticide that we inhale x5 |
|
The pesticide that we inhale x5 |
