Sit in your cage Watch your whole life. Acid lie. We are the dead skins, Crawling ourselves at any whistle sound. Look to your chains. We are the dead skins. To avoid ideas of flying away They fulfill your brain, To easily take pieces of you. You cannot sing, Gravel in your mouth. Cut it out. And scrape the ground now. Crowns and fakes remind us who we are. We are the sons of a dead dream, ghosts. Muffled screams, head buried in the ground. We are the blood, venom in their veins. We are the dogs, mashing hand of gods. We are the nails, sticked on their necks. We are venom, by us all pigs will die. Bleeding throats will turn away from this black, False, painted sun. We are hate, pain, blood. The mirror of shame will be broken. Glass will cut trough their scabs. Gravel in the mouth, Now, scream, bleed