Sleepwalking through our spoon-fed lives
As evidence of times before, in chapters long forgotten, the rotting tomes of history are written by the victors
Empty words are staring back as paragraphs of power leave no traces of the toiler s fate (just one massacre too many-and none too late)

All glory comes from death, desensitized in unreal fiction forms
Our leaders never die -it s the working poor that fight their wars

It is written? It is rotten, their truth is dead and rotting

With decades passing and nothing changing, the hourglass grows empty again
Tunnel visions and career clowns, send ivory towers crumbling down
The pulse is fading, the axe is falling, another tragedy unfolds
The moral standard, the status quota, the carcasses of millions left in their wake

The paper bound in books that glorify the acts of murderers
Will burn just like all empires that have come before

It is written? It is rotten, their truth is dead and rotting

500 Years Dead
Cold and efficient they carry out their plan- indoctrinate the youth to the textbook wasteland
As patriots empowered, they coronate themselves, breed us on their lies, and then feed us to the wolves