Slave!
Lot number 9!
And sold!
It doesn't matter if your glass
Is half empty or half full.
There is no way one can
Fill up a shattered bowl.
In the flow of fell feelings
I dissolve in the sky.
Stay here for a moment
Full of pain and cries.
And every new day drains away,
But you continue striving.
You're like a water in the closet!
When've you became a slave?
Lot number 8 – your life – 30 silver coins – and sold!
What have you lost today to feed your idols and gods?
How could one become rejected?
How can man hate that much?
What is wrong with being different?
Who decides who is an outcast?
// Text by Gorge of IX