Proletarians, Revolt!
Have Fun Dying
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Obscure thoughts written down
Frightened by the sound of footsteps outside
They look inside the depths of your soul
To search for voids
To search for holes
To search for imperfection
And they'll find it
And they'll exploit it
And you'll regret it
And you'll accept it
And you'll respect it
And you'll forget it
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Asphixiated
Archaic ideas
I'm up to my ears
In propaghanda
Close the curtains
Death is certain
For those who sit back and act like everything is alright