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we're the children of the first-world a livestock for consume and fuel for a machine we think in circles directed by tv we obey to numbers they tell us how to be round and round we go to get a distance from what we know we are the waste of this earth damned since our birth this is a merry-go-round to hell the keys got lost it screams in our cell more and more we seal to get a distance from how we feel we're locked into rooms we burn for a machine it feeds us but keeps us apart perception fixed into the past we don't see a trap although it's vast we move backwards into the future driven by needs we follow the order if there is a free will still we accidently kill with all this distance we see ourselves disconnected from any feeling we are like the flies on the ceiling round and round we go to get a distance from what we know we are the waste of this earth damned since our birth this is a merry-go-round to hell the keys got lost it screams in our cell more and more we seal to get a distance from how we feel this is a merry-go-round-to-hell ! From Letras Mania