Текст песни Black Channels - Some Sort Of Curse

The fulility of it all, a waste of precious time
What must they think of my failure to act?
My wrists - they were not bound
My legs - had not been broken
Shouting out so loud, but no sound coming out...
...Som sort of curse?

Their tongues fall out of their disgusting mouths
Salivating on themselves
Their tongues hang out of their grinning mouths
Salivating on themselves
Tongues hanging out, of their disgusting mouths
Salivating on themselves
Tongues hanging out, of their disgusting mouths
Unashamed of themselves...

"You! Bite down on the cork and accept your lashing!"
A crowd gathers round, from miles around
To watch a group of men beat a man into the ground
I'll be buried up to my neck in dirt
Will they kick me when I'm down?
Buried up to my neck in dirt
Will they kick me when I'm down?
Buried up to my neck in dirt
The animals have revealed themselves..