Wrought of blind innocence like children playing with dolls Considering not technology of convenience would forever rule our lives The machine is dark and distant yet we all fall in line For it controls who gets the scraps; When We are pounded with fear Day in day out enslaved to its foul ends with no sign of hope at all
Thurty X's and thirty more the fallen a heap of rot in my head Faceless, nameless, bug-eyed, ugly over and over, the voices command Banging fraps on my door! Never before, never before I'm losing control can't tell if it's real or in my mind Lost in a quagmire of monotony we see the slaves Control, predestination no avow When all paths and roads lead toward no escape we will Rise or fall by the wayside of this storm
Should I answer? The wait may be over They must be here for me they will take me to punishment Sweat off the fear; breath frapping again and again Pulse acceleration to burst the door unlocks and opens (not by my hand)
In silence I freeze this night silhoutted by hallway light Blurred by terror, pulse of force blood turns cold, so much worse
We are pounded with fear Day in day out enslaved to its foul ends With no sign of hope at all When all paths and roads lead toward no escape We will rise or fall by the wayside of this storm Wrath PoundingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
