King Of Logic
Homo Iratus
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Without sight and hearing
Only with the sence of touch
Illusory affection they sought
Far away from truth's lucid eye
A cold hand of help
Morbid state of habit
A matter of principle
Can you refuse?
Who the fuck are you?
King of logic
In the land of the damned
Obsessed with the dream
Of life after death...
...and hope
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King of logic
In the land of the damned
Obsessed with the dream
Of life after death...
...and hope
For some quality time
Residing in concrete cells
Who are we to judge?
Who are you to question?