I did my time, and I want out!
So effusive-fade!
It doesn’t cut, the soul is not so vibrant.
The reckoning, the sickening.
Packaging subversion.
Pseudo-sacrosanct perversion.
Go drill your deserts, go dig your graves!
Then fill your mouth with all the money you will save.
Sinking in, getting smaller again.
I’M DONE! It has begun, I’m not the only one!
And the rain will kill us all.
We Throw ourselves against the wall.
But no-one else can see.
The preservation of the martyr in me.
Psychosocial, Psychosocial, Psychosocial.
Psychosocial, Psychosocial, Psychosocial.
There are cracks on the road we laid.
But where the temple fell, the secrets have gone mad.
This is nothing new, but when we kill it all
The Hate was all we had!
Who needs another mess, we could start over.
Just look me in the eyes and say I’m wrong!
Now there’s only emptiness, venomous, inspid
I think we’re done, I’m not the only one!
And the rain will kill us all.
We Throw ourselves against the wall.
But no-one else can see.
The preservation of the martyr in me.
Psychosocial, Psychosocial, Psychosocial.
Psychosocial, Psychosocial, Psychosocial.
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
Fake anti-fascist lie, (Psychosocial)
I’ve tried to tell you, but (Psychosocial)
Your purple hearts are giving out. (Psychosocial)
Can’t stop the killing idea. (Psychosocial)
If it’s hunting season. (Psychosocial)
Is this what you want? (Psychosocial)
I’m not the only one!
And the rain will kill us all.
We Throw ourselves against the wall.
But no-one else can see.
The preservation of the martyr in me. X2
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
The limits of the dead!
