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