Текст: Public Serpents. The Feeding Of The Fortune 5000. Suburban Dreams.

If you need some time to think
then you probably want that time, to cultivate, all your entropy
if you really fucking cared, you'd speak it from your heart
not sit around and plan attacks, rehearsing all your parts
but you need some time to spread all your misery

look me in the eye, and try to give it straight
the hounds of hell are soon upon, the pathos that we take
to persecute our dignity and throw it in our face
all is lost, its cut and run, its time to leave this rotten place

if you need, an alibi for all your twisted lives
then you probably never had the chance, to peer inside
an empty shell of hope, this stagnant pool of man
decapitate, resuscitate, all done by the same hand
but you need time to perpetuate the hate and all the sadist ties

i cant believe this wack ass game you played on me
grade school tricks, of bait and switch, did this when i was three
it doesn't take an eagles eye to measure up your deeds
just an ounce of pride, and a breath of life, to make your plans recede

a pinch of hate, demonstrates, the logic and the traits
of new world ordered, medicate, the future of restraints
its in your food, on the tube and products that you use
and that fluoride in your toothpaste is mind control in a tube, now your screwed....

your a picture perfect example, of the things i said today
just take a look around you and your ways
suburban youth, theres no hope for you to ever find the truth

if you need, someone to tell you how to live your fucking life
well i think your home, you won the game, grand prize is a trophy wife