Blind trust was not worth it
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We are now like cattle in a stall
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Sane interfere, get away
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At the root of such trampled boots
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They will kill someone, they will just pass by
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Quietly glorifying those for whom the guillotine is already crying
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Tightening the belt, quietly dying
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From the tree of hope leaving only a stump
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On your knees, well, who is told?
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Be patient, it's your choice, ordered
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You know, sometimes it seems that we all need it that way
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Great martyrs or stupid herd?
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Slowly starting to emerge
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Even those who have a piece of bread, a warm bed
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Taught to hate, hate and be silent
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Ignore injustice
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Around the blind
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Cover up scars, hide scars
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They lick their wounds, fools believe in nonsense
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In the soul with a share of rottenness
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Around the blind
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Be it at the bottom of the ditch, be it the proud
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And they seem to go to temples, but scoundrels in idols
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The dead will not forgive you
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Around the blind
|
Cover up scars, hide scars
|
They lick their wounds, fools believe in nonsense
|
In the soul with a share of rottenness
|
Around the blind
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Be it at the bottom of the ditch, be it the proud
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And they seem to go to temples, but scoundrels in idols
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Are you blind, fathers?
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How much can you forgive insults, pain and lies
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Look for excuses, where there is no soul
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In the gilding of the palaces, we are in the gas chambers
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Everywhere the blind are not devoid of eyes
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They only see that they are allowed (yeah)
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They sin with their blindness (sin)
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There is nothing worse than inaction
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Down to the very bottom (to the very bottom)
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Obey and endure
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The bag of discontent was put away in the cage
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Helplessness beats like a whip
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And for the truth here they will easily give death
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Hope for tomorrow as the breakfast got cold
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What yesterday believed under a layer of dust
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Used to endure, used to be silent
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Ignore injustice...
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Around the blind
|
Cover up scars, hide scars
|
They lick their wounds, fools believe in nonsense
|
In the soul with a share of rottenness
|
Around the blind
|
Be it at the bottom of the ditch, be it the proud
|
And they seem to go to temples, but scoundrels in idols
|
Are you blind, fathers?
|
Around the blind
|
Cover up scars, hide scars
|
They lick their wounds, fools believe in nonsense
|
In the soul with a share of rottenness
|
Around the blind
|
Be it at the bottom of the ditch, be it the proud
|
And they seem to go to temples, but scoundrels in idols
|
The dead will not forgive you
|
Around the blind
|
Cover up scars, hide scars
|
They lick their wounds, fools believe in nonsense
|
In the soul with a share of rottenness
|
Around the blind
|
Be it at the bottom of the ditch, be it the proud
|
And they seem to go to temples, but scoundrels in idols
|
Are you blind, fathers? |