On a path of silent traditions
Try to pull us back like generation of lost causes
Braindeads make quick decisions
And we fail to disappoint them

I count my ways to deal with this shit
I get one, just to live with it
Middle finger, middle finger

On the a of silent traditions
Through which the world looks not so scary
Braindeads make quick decisions
And we’re paid to act stupid

After all we’re not the mad ones, lost ones, weak ones
Call us the future but we’re here today
We’re the chain we must break

On our own – the possibility
And somewhere someday we’ll make concrete burn

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