Born into a richness, so fulfilling and righteous,
I never thought I'd get to go this far into the darkness.
Begging, begging for another chance to live,
another rope to hang from, another faith to weave.
Deadly, empty kind of white noise,
the price of the future is denying remorse.

The force, the green force that moves us forward
is as deadly as the venom used to bring the force onwards.
Onwards towards the empty, inevitable end,
the end from which even the rich cannot evade.
Don't pretend you care about it, we see when tension
mounts,
it's kind of pointless to just run around an shout.

No one knows the cure, and hardly no one cares,
don't even try to educate those billions of bears,
each looking for his pile of honey,
just so he gets peace, self deceiving beasts,
eating each other for the money.

Trying to get along, in the world of the strong,
of the fittest, the clever, society is wrong.
I'm hung down the tree of my own disagree,
and the more I watch down, the more I see,
how much I don't belong.

The race, the hunt for wealth,
is the number one killer,
the maximum thriller,
the goal on this earth.
The more of them you know, you hunt,
the more you get bigger,
and once you're in you lose the touch
with your
inner
self.