Distorted lines of freedom Where the mediocre man prevails Absolute flattery of equality
Like the procession of the hearse Slowly leading the lamenting mob To the burial of existence
Industrie des fleisches Schlachthaus der Gedanken
No more traces of reality
It fears, it cries, it hopes, it loves That little sphere filled with fragile life Already crawling into death row
Industrie des fleisches Schlachthaus der Gedanken
When followers drown into non-self Irradiated by constriction of mind A grandiose self arises to stand and refuse The innocence of his peers mangles his deep ego Cracking like whips on flesh Altering his senses until all humanity is gone
Perceptions are swirling - visions darkened And as lucidity vanishes - anger is soon in control This outburst of violence - pure and devoid of reason Takes hold of a new reality
He reigns They fallTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
