Teksty: Witch Hunt. ...As Priorities Decay. Life In A Box.

Every morning's like a funeral procession- And we're the dead-
Abysmal retrogression- How do you earn a living in a life you
didn't ask for?- How do you earn your living when your life's
already over?- Suffer.- I didn't ask for this but now that it's
mine now one's taking it away.- Every morning- Wake up red-eyed-
Future constricts my throat- Always thinking about tomorrow-
Never enjoy the day- The carrot always dangles- Swept up in a
mindless tedium- Cradle. Cubicle. Coffin.- Thank you for your
service- You'll become storage when your deemed useless- Suffer.-I
didn't ask for this but now that it's mine no one's taking it
away- Work and worth are two very different things- Whether the
collar's blue or white the master still grips the leash- Pressured
into the "real world" pf stillborn goals and dreams- Red tape stifles
the alternative so we fade into mediocrity- But it's up to you and me-
It's life or death.