Am I falling or is it an illusion? The realm of fact pulls towards delusion Self interest, an asylum's gate Lacerate this handed fate
Pure is not universal
Stop selling yourselves We're creating this hell Our traditions are the depletion Of a master plan to nullify the land Now pillage the irrigation, the basis of a system
Nine days, never what they seem, but the messages they convey Are worth their weight in gold Analyze them on your own
Nothing in hypocrisy, nothing in another's seeingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
