This mark of impalement burned On my skin is immoral. The shackle of frailness confines one To crawl with one self. | | A smell of corrosion force Fully clashes within Sensorial conditions Human emmisions grown thin |
It's burned on your head It's burned on your skin It's burned on your eyes A barcode never lies | | A symbol of power As dark as the night No measure for intolerance We'll keep up the fight |
This structure of violence Now becomes. Silence is hurtful Beginning our obsession we now Learned our lesson. Despite | | A world of dominance Will now pervade Clouds cover the sun The light begins to fade |
This toilsome aggression is Now getting harder to fight Solutions of leverage Internal combustion is tight |
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