every single day is the same
we are steadily moving on
to the mines where we feel the lash

where is the joy in this life
when a man realizes
that his dreams were passing by
ignore his voice

it is the same in this realm every time
where the boredom overweight
creative thoughts
we are all just ants

where is the point of return
when the sream is still
corrupting healthy minds

please deafen or blind me
I become insane
this is bloody real
this is no phantom haze
everyone is against me
dissect me with your gaze
we are too numb to feel
this surreal reality
there is nothing to gain
it has become so trivial for me
it is the most common thing
that we all long for uniqueness
unreachable – yet we will realise

the only chance to get through to them
is us running with our guns
to the mass and kill them all

where is the joy in this life
when a single man is not allowed
to slay the ones he loves
he is so alive

now he has reached dead end
but the tranformation will not stop
the man is much more
he becomes the left hand of god

taste the flesh of the broken ones
the chosen nihilist unites the weak
my the storm never end
mother – what have I become

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