My son for you this game was made
so get out and taste the riches of this world
fear not falter not, they are all yours
to hold to crave to own

Who we are and will become – a matter of birth
those who teach us good and evil shape our minds
and chose the ways we go,
by chosing those we shall know to be the right to walk
or to avoid

Who we are and will become – a matter fo genes?
How can you then blame a murdererfor his deeds?
If its nature’s fault
he would inherit this need to cut their veins
to make them bleed

My son for you I have nothing to give
though I tried, though I bled, in my ashes now I lie
get out and see – our world is not that free
for those not born in the right place

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