Again like always I forced to look at this faces Plastic containers full of sorrow and regrets Dead eyes watching from everywhere What else do you got Some sort of morality, self-consciousness and feelin success in your reproductive sexual routine There’s not much differences from ants, going to serve their leader Like you some kind a wild animal, trapped, but stopped to resist Everyday feels like another round of urban hell where you just keep to exist weighed down by chains, that you locked on yourself by your own hands Hard to believe, that you called it freedom And keepin to push yourself into the abyss