| It is time for nailing some heads |
| Something looms in the dark tunnel ahead |
| These headless bodies keep walking |
| Can’t you hear the half-deads talking |
| Without their eyes, they can see it Without their ears, they can hear it Without their lungs, they are breathing |
| With no blood, they are bleeding |
| New world society |
| Has written their blank creed |
| Giving liberty |
| To widows wrapped in black weeds |
| When life’s not worth living |
| Are they real, are they fake? |
| Hold out to the end, unforgiving |
| They wish they were dead |
| Someone godlike holding heads as a salesman |
| From ashes of hell he’s arisen |
| The whole world fatalities |
| Seen through half opened eyes |
| For them being nothing |
| They paid the price |
| Without their heart, they can feel it With no soul, they feel hatred |
| Without their legs, they are creeping |
| Without dreams, they are sleeping |
| The whole world’s fatalities |
| Have thrown on a head hunter shield |
| Confront brutality |
| Their doom is yet unsealed |
| For those who are blind |
| Whose life is a fake |
| Deprived of all presence of mind |
| A profound mistake |