| The living dead are all I see, this man made grey society
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| A funeral life in front of me, its futile joy my misery
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| Bombs falling from the skies, starving children left to die
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| Witnessed on a plasma screen, they care more for commodities
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| Infestation of grey death — putrefaction everywhere
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| Drudgery of the factory, funds material slavery
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| A holiday beside the sea, some tickets for the lottery
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| Can’t escape this life of death, blindly racking up the debts
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| Dreams are rotting you can’t see, decomposing dignity
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| Infestation of grey death — putrefaction fills the air
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| On a pale horse ride across the sands death
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| Barren wilderness, a soulless world bereft
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| Corpses fill my eyes, I don’t hallucinate
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| Feeling terrified, anxious filled with hate
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| I’ve seen the things I need to see, just took a long time to believe
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| Days pass by as I walk slow into the ground, oh yes I know
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| The reaper blessed me long ago, with the wisdom they don’t know
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| We’re all dying it’s plain to see, but some are gone long before me
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| Infestation of grey death — putrefaction kills the air |