Piled in inhuman condictions. Deeper we'll be throwed
Has his price, you worth more that older one
The wet cradle and chains cooler the punishment
What flows harms the will
There's no explanation for that atrocity
Turn back is to die
Disarranged images introduced something
Stupid. Poor
Create divisions. Imaginable evil.
Facts. Mysterys.
In fact everything that was extract are they lives
Pices of a damned harvest. One chance one try
Get up from fall before they cut your wristes
Run from the slayer
Release from slavery
Feelings turn us commom people
Attached to mistakes
Everything is out control
Get rid from emotion once created
Be free from old conditions
Fear hides the true
Blind by beliefs
It's hard to forget, since the beginning
Been the hunt
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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