Crawling on the dirt
Procaos
Walking through the ashes,
Of a sick society.
There's no life around me,
Just puppets made of skin.
Of a sick society.
There's no life around me,
Just puppets made of skin.
Fields of emtpty bodies,
Crawling on the dirt
Sinking expectations,
From false reality.
You will never understand this life.
It's too much complicated,
For your head without brain.
Hollow heads, hollow paths,
'cause emptyness is all you have.
Hollow heads…. hollow paths
Hollow heads…. hollow paths
Made in dirty... made in filth...
Made in dirty... made in filth...
Fields of emtpty bodies,
Crawling on the dirt
Sinking expectations
From false reality.
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