Stressed Elephant
Bison B.C.
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No pills for our sake, we journey to a different grave.
Hunted and beautiful, the darkest, the true.
Work place, a sin, let the dancing begin.
Our dead will rise with raging thunder, trampled under.
We are caged, wasting away.
Escape into renaissance.
We live in memories; we lost everything.
Marching to our grief, obeying human thieves.
Our dead will rise with raging thunder, trampled under.
We are caged, wasting away.
Escape into renaissance.
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Our dead will rise, revenge for human crimes.
Into renaissance, we died for innocence.
Marching to our grave.